Fairyborn and Humanbred
by Katta
Summary: Sandy and Ike prepare for their wedding, but peace is disturbed by Sandy's bridesmaid. She is soon hated by everyone except, as it turns out, Jimmy... Sequel to The Second Time You Fall.
1.

FAIRY-BORN AND HUMAN-BRED  
  
sequel to THE SECOND TIME YOU FALL  
  
  
The blonde girl sat down on her colleagues desk. He managed to get some papers out of the way. Although sighing at her behaviour, he didn't protest. There was no use. He gave her a glance that was far from friendly.  
  
Now, David, she said. She had a distinct English upper-class accent, and her voice was dark and husky. I know you're not speaking with me at the moment, but I have some news that might interest you.  
  
Since when do you share interesting news with me? the young man asked mildly.  
  
Not that kind of news. She held a letter in front of him. Sandy is getting married.  
  
Disbelieving, he snatched the letter from her fingers. She watched with uncovered amusement as he read it through, strong emotions evident in his face.  
  
I understand if you're disappointed, she said. Her voice was serious, but anyone who knew her at all could hear the mocking in it.  
  
David definitely heard it, but he was too busy reading to give her any other reply than a half-hearted oh, shut up.  
  
I don't believe it, he said when he had finished. I simply don't believe it.  
  
I know. After all this time you've spent trying to get her interested in you, I understand that it has to be  
  
I thought I told you to shut up? He frowned. You know that's not the point. But we don't know the first thing about this man!  
  
She raised an eyebrow, and he looked suspiciously at her.  
  
You knew? Lena, did you know about this?  
  
I didn't know about _this_, she answered. I knew she had met a man. She is my friend, you know, we do talk to each other. But to tell the truth, I'm worried about this. I don't like the way she rushed into this, leaving her job and friends over some bloke. Not all of them are worth it.  
  
She looked thoughtful for a moment, but then her face lit up.  
  
I suppose I could take a look at him before the wedding, just to make sure that he's alright. She will need a bridesmaid after all.  
  
He handed her the letter back. So, what does Pierce say about her resignation?  
  
What do you think he says? she answered with a grin. He's working on a marathon in indecent language. She winked at David. Do you want to see him beat the record?  
  
His dark eyes focused on her mischievous face. What are you going to do?  
  
Smiling, she put her feet back on the ground and moved towards the editor's door.  
  
I'm going to make myself free-lance, she said.  
  
The door opened and closed. David waited and listened. When the explosion came, every word came through the door loud and clear. He leant back in his chair, and he couldn't help a smile coming over his lips. As much as he loathed Lena at the moment, you just had to love the girl.  
  
**********  
  
Sandy went inside the bunkhouse, and while she searched the room for any sight of Ike, her eyes fell on Cody. He was lying on his bunk, reading a newspaper.  
  
I see, she said.  
  
He folded down the paper and gave her a glance.  
  
See what? he asked.  
  
Well, first of all that my presence here doesn't bother you, which is a good thing, of course. Second that you find it completely natural to take my things as if they were your own. I haven't even read that paper myself yet.  
  
His eyes strayed back into the reading. Who's A.?  
  
Sandy gave up any hope of getting that newspaper back before Cody had finished with it.  
  
she asked.  
  
Yeah, someone called A. has been scribbling stuff on your paper. She says she's gonna be your bridesmaid.  
  
Give me that!  
  
Sandy pinched the newspaper from Cody's hand before he could react, and she read: Hold the wedding until I get there and I will be your bridesmaid. A. A smile lit up her face.  
  
Now isn't that just like Lena, she said.  
  
Cody said with a frown. That doesn't start with an A.  
  
Two A's actually. AnnaLena Andersson, Sandy said absentmindedly. I guess she figured I'd be rushing the wedding since I'm pregnant.  
  
Some people in town say you ought to, Cody said. The look she gave him made his face red, and she laughed at his embarrassment.  
  
You just can't keep that foot away from your mouth, can you Cody? she said softly.  
  
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...  
  
That's alright. She sat down on the bunk nearby. Do you know what I like about you, Cody? You're so uncomplicated, you can adapt to things. Since I got here, I must have had at least five people taking me aside to A: ask me if I'm sure about this, B: tell me to take it easy to Ike since he's so-o-o sensitive and so-o-o easily hurt - which is rubbish by the way, he's a survivor by nature if anyone is - and C: ask me if I'm alright with the negative attention I'm getting. Which I am. But it was nice that they actually cared how I felt, too, and didn't treat me like the bad girl getting Ike into her clutches.  
  
Cody laughed. Who's been talking to you like that?  
  
Oh, pretty much everybody. Buck I had expected it from, and Lou... well, she's my friend, I guess she felt she had to. Then there's Teaspoon, who's in charge of you all, so I don't blame him, and Rachel probably got a few maternal feelings. So it wasn't until Kid came along that I wished people would give me a break. Jimmy hinted a thing or two but didn't really press the issue.  
  
How about Noah? Cody said, who had listened with great amusement.  
  
Noah was alright, she said. He said 'So, you're marrying Ike?' and I said 'Yes', and he asked 'Why?', and I said 'Because I love him and I'm having his baby', and then he said 'Well those are two very good reasons', and that was about it.  
  
And I haven't asked you anything, Cody reproached himself. Would you like me to?  
  
Well, why not? You have the right to be as annoying as the others.  
  
He thought for a while without coming up with anything. What kind of negative attention is it you're getting? he asked.  
  
You mean you haven't noticed? In town, how some people seem to think I'm this... criminal. No, wait, not criminal, pervert.  
  
  
  
Sure. You know, as if I'm sick for wanting to marry Ike. And then, she worked herself up to a hysterical tone of voice, they see us kiss and notice how much I want him and they just lose their breath! More than a few of them know I'm pregnant, too, and that's both sick and indecent. I suppose when my stomach starts growing, their eyes will pop out, she rounded up.  
  
And that doesn't bother you? Cody asked, unusually serious.  
  
Well... To some extent it does, of course. It's always frightening when people are that thick. But the gossip can only hurt if you're ashamed, and I'm not. I'm proud and happy. Her face was eager and almost glowing. I don't think I've been this happy for years. I want to laugh and sing and dance and babble forever about nothing at all - pretty much like I'm doing now, she concluded.  
  
Well, in that case I think you would be crazy *not* to marry Ike, Cody remarked.  
  
Her dimples deepened from the big smile on her face and she leaned down to give Cody a sisterly kiss on the cheek. Sometimes you're a real sweetheart, you know that?  
  
He was a little embarrassed, and hurried to change the subject. So tell me about this friend of yours. Is she pretty?  
  
Not really. But for some reasons, men don't seem to mind.  
  
**********  
  
Jimmy's day off had been so boring he actually considered going back o the station and ask for something - anything - to do. Then the stagecoach arrived and he watched with interest as the passengers left. There were only two of them: one elderly gentleman who quickly disappeared into the hotel, and one young girl trying to get a huge trunk off the roof, with some assistance by the coach driver. To judge by the amount of her luggage, this wasn't just a brief visit. Jimmy watched amused as she persuaded the unwilling driver to help her carry her belongings down the street. If Jimmy knew the guy correctly, he would have been happy to carry the entire world if the girl had been a pretty sort or fancy dressed, but this one was neither. She was tall and built as a boy, with the blonde hair carelessly thrown back into a ponytail and skirts that didn't hide the fact that she had been travelling for days. Still the driver found himself doing everything she said. She seems kind of bossy, Jimmy thought, and kept watching since he had nothing better to do.  
  
The girl stopped outside old Mrs. Warren's house and was soon let in. The truth dawned on Jimmy. Mrs Warren had been searching all over town for a new maid, but found none. Rumours had it that she was a harsh mistress, and no one was really surprised that she had difficulty getting staff. Apparently, she had settled for an out-of-towner, and the poor girl probably had no idea what she was getting herself into. But considering how the girl had treated the poor driver, neither had Mrs. Warren.  
  
After the door closed, Jimmy's attention went elsewhere, and he left his observing position for the tavern behind it. About half an hour later he had finally decided that this day carried nothing exiting for him and he returned outside. To his surprise, the young girl was now standing on the street again. Leaving already? he thought, until he realised that even though she still carried a few things it wasn't the massive load of belongings she had before, only two suitcases and a basket. She noticed his glance and smiled at him, then she gave him a quick wave of her hand. Come here. Boy, she *was* bossy - but also hard to disobey for some peculiar reason.  
  
Now, a nice, idle young man as yourself wouldn't possibly know how to get to the Pony Express Station? she asked. She had an accent he recognized as English.  
  
This was a little too much of a coincidence. Options of what to do crossed his mind, and curiosity decided which should win. You could come with me, I work there. His eyes fell on her things. You might need a wagon though, we can rent one for you.  
  
That is so kind of you, she said, and it wasn't that she didn't sound as if she meant it, but her voice revealed that she saw it as perfectly natural that a complete stranger would go through all that trouble for her. My name is Lena Andersson, nice to meet you.  
  
She reached out her hand and he took it. James Hickok.  
  
A twist of the eyebrows showed that she recognized the name. The one and only, she said, sounding slightly amused.  
  
You could say that, Jimmy replied shortly, praying that she wouldn't press the issue. She didn't. She actually didn't seem very interested in personal questions, asking or being asked, such as why she wanted to go to the express station. Not that she was unfriendly or anything. She just seemed to find long explanations unnecessary.  
  
he asked, you're Mrs. Warren's new maid?  
  
At the moment, yes. She seems a bit off.  
  
Oh, she is, he assured her, and she smiled a little.  
  
she said, for the first time showing any sign of curiosity - sadly not towards him. I guess if you work at the station you know Ike McSwain?  
  
Jimmy was a little startled. That Ike could deal with two women at once had been a surprise. Three was simply out of the question. Of course, there are many other ways to know a woman than the Biblical one.  
  
Yeah, sure, I know him, he said.   
  
You like him? she asked innocently.  
  
He's like a brother to me.  
  
Oh. A friendly lad then? Good with people and all?  
  
More on the shy side, actually. Jimmy started to wonder where this conversation was going.  
  
And I suppose women like that?  
  
I never thought of him as a ladies' man, that's for sure. Well, not until he got himself tangled up with two of them, anyway. He hurried to add: But that's all sorted out now, he's marrying one of them.  
  
Her face was a complete blank. You don't say.  
  
He stared at her and it finally hit him why her name had seemed familiar. So that's what this is all about. You're Sandy's friend and you want to find out if she's marrying a good guy.  
  
She grinned, secret revealed. Well, you can't blame me, can you? She runs off like that saying to everyone she just has some business to attend to, and before you know it she's engaged and not coming back. I have to keep an eye on the girl, she doesn't have my experience with men. She thought for a while. On the other hand she doesn't have my bad taste in them either.  
  
No, she most certainly doesn't, he said with emphasis. Then he realised how that sounded and blushed. I didn't mean I don't even know you.  
  
Lena laughed heartily. Don't apologize. If you're right, I'm happy.  
  
They reached the station and Jimmy turned to help Lena down, but she had already slid off the wagon and was quickly approaching a young hispanic girl standing outside Rachel's house. She held her arms out, and simply stated:  
  
I'm here!  
  
**********  
  
Sandy cried out loud when she saw Lena jumping down Jimmy's wagon, and the two girls fell in each other's arms, swirling around. Then Lena took a step backwards and looked closely at her friend.  
  
You are fatter already! Or are you just eating too many biscuits?  
  
Sandy laughed at her friend's impertinence. Immediate hit! Who taught you to fire so quickly? A couple of bad lovers?  
  
And she strikes right back! Lena replied. I have taught you well, sister.  
  
Those of the riders that had noticed the wagon coming were standing a few steps away from the girls, listening in on this rather unusual greeting ceremony. Buck raised a doubtful eyebrow, but Ike, meeting his glance, shook his head. Sure, this girl appeared rather overwhelming, but he was in favour of anyone who could make Sandy lighten up so noticeably.  
  
Sandy finally calmed down enough to realise there were people around her, and she waved for Ike to come closer.  
  
Ike, this is Lena, my bridesmaid. Lena, this is Ike  
  
The groom? Lena said, finishing the sentence. She inspected the young man from head to toe, and finally frowned a little as she shook his hand.  
  
Less than impressed so far, I must say, she declared. I would have thought it took a knight in shining armour to capture the Iron Maiden, but you are just ordinary.  
  
Ike smiled a little. If the girl attempted to make a bad first impression by insulting him, she hadn't really succeeded. *There are worse things than ordinary,* he signed, and Sandy translated, blushing a little from Lena's not very flattering nickname.  
  
Well, that's true. Mean, for example. She was as tall as he was, and looked him straight in the eyes, smiling. If you're mean to her, I'll rip your balls off with a very dull knife.  
  
Sandy said in a warning voice, and the girl grimaced.  
  
Sandy has this strange idea that you shouldn't threaten people unless you mean it, she told Ike. So if *she* ever threatens to rip your balls off, you'd better watch your crotch carefully.  
  
Before anyone had the chance to react to this, she turned to Sandy.  
  
Is it alright if I stock some things at your place? That crazy woman I'm supposed to work for thinks everything is sinful. She tried to burn my Shakespeare.  
  
sure that can be arranged, Sandy replied. She seemed a little perplexed, but not much compared to the others.  
  
Bossy, loudmouthed, tactless and overwhelming, Lena Andersson had entered their lives. It took them a while to realize she had no plans of making an exit any time soon.  
  
**********  



	2. 

**********  
  
God, I hate America, Lena stated, throwing herself on the ground and leaning her back towards the stable wall.  
  
Jimmy looked down on her. If this was flirting, it was rather original.  
  
Then why are you here? he asked.  
  
Pure necessity. Try building a career in Europe. But I do hate this place. I miss the ocean, for one thing. At least there's a lake near Chicago, over here there's no water at all.  
  
There's a creek half a mile away.  
  
she said with the pure contempt of a born sailor. Jimmy had to laugh.  
  
If you want an ocean, why don't you move to New York or something?  
  
I don't know anyone in New York. She gazed up on him and smiled a little. Can't fool you, can I?  
  
Her frankness was contagious, and before he could stop himself, Jimmy had answered in the same manner:  
  
Well, it's just that you keep telling Sandy you hate kids, and yet here you are, waiting for hers. It seems like your opinions doesn't have much to do with reality.  
  
When he had said that, he frowned. If he had been inclined to that sort of things, he would probably have blushed. This sort of honesty could easily be considered insults.  
  
But Lena just kept smiling. She was *definitely* flirting with him.  
  
Most blokes don't look through me this quickly, she said, and laughed a little. And when they do, they bolt.  
  
Like him, she didn't seem to have precise control of what came out of her mouth, because she looked startled and embarrassed of her own words. She stood up quickly, brushing the earth away from her skirt.  
  
Jimmy said, trying to make her feel more comfortable. He had liked this flirting session. You must have met some really stupid men.  
  
She gave him a strained smile, but didn't seem willing to continue the conversation. Far too many. Listen, I should find Sandy.  
  
As she walked off, her fingers accidentally brushed by his, and he took hold of her hand on impulse. She turned back and looked him straight and kindly into his eyes as she slowly removed her hand. Then she left.  
  
Jimmy would probably never fully understand the mind of a woman, but her look told him for certain that this touch had not, as he first thought, been accidental. She was testing him somehow. That ought to tick him off, but he really didn't mind. Just as long as he passed.  
  
**********  
  
Sandy sat down opposite Lena and asked her: Well, what do you think of him?  
  
Well, what can I say... The young woman let her fingers run over her neck. Then she noticed her friend's glare. Oh. You mean Ike.  
  
Sandy smiled.   
  
He's very nice. I would never go out with him.  
  
Buck was entering the bunkhouse and threw the girls a glance before laying down on his bunk. He wasn't too keen on entering a private conversation, but he was too tired to care. Demonstratively, he turned his back on the girls. He liked Sandy a lot, but Lena was rather annoying.  
  
I'm entirely grateful, Sandy said sarcastically.  
  
Lena looked at Buck's aloof back and changed language for the next part of conversation. Not that he needed to understand the words to understand the meaning.  
  
Y... pues, han foyado, ¿sí?  
  
Sandy asked innocently.  
  
Tú y tu novio, tonta.  
  
Sí, claro. Sandy said, teasingly. ¿Qué crees? ¿Que estoy la Virgen María?  
  
Lena rolled her eyes. Lo que quiero decir es... ¿Cómo era?  
  
Sandy laughed out loud. She hadn't quite expected that question.  
  
Muy bueno, she replied. No tengo tu experiencia, claro, pero me gusta mucho. She got a smile on her face that wasn't entirely chaste.  
  
¿Qué te gusta? Lena demanded. She wasn't letting Sandy off the hook without details.  
  
Sandy thought for a moment. Todo... Cuando me toca... el modo que besa mis tetas. Es muy cariñoso, muy gentíl.  
  
Lena looked at the somewhat excited expression on her friend's face and gave a pleased smile.  
  
Creo que algún es un poquito cachonda...  
  
Well, maybe I am! Sandy cried, going back to English. What's it to you?  
  
Nothing! I'm glad! Although, did you have to get pregnant right away?  
  
Sandy raised an eyebrow. It's not as if I planned it. It just happened.  
  
You must be one of those extremely fertile people. Mom had to try hard for both Kajsa and me. I think I'm like her in that aspect, fortunately. But did you take any precautions at all?  
  
Sandy looked thoughtful. I didn't know there were precautions to take.  
  
The other girl laughed at her. You're still an ice virgin in some ways, darling. There are heaps of ways not to get pregnant.  
  
Like what?  
  
Lena got a mischievous grin on her face. Well, my favourite way is... She didn't trust the Spanish, so she whispered into Sandy's ear. The chicano girl's eyes got very wide.  
  
She wrinkled her nose. But does that feel as good?  
  
Well, that depends on who's doing it, Lena said. If I am, I'm mostly doing the lad a favour. If he is, and he knows how to, it's better.  
  
Sandy licked her lips pensively, and Lena laughed.  
  
Trust your slutty friend to give you marital advice, she joked.  
  
Sandy said, her head not quite where her body was. Then she got back to earth. If *you* got pregnant, what would you do?  
  
Oh, God! Lena made a wry face, shocked at the thought. I'd probably push up a knitting needle or something stupid like that. Why put another bastard into this world, right?  
  
Buck winced where he lay. He had pretended to be asleep, but couldn't help listening to the conversation. His jaw set at Lena's thoughtless words.  
  
Sandy stared at her friend. Don't make such a joke. That could kill you.  
  
Lena said, and smiled ironically at her friend. Great loss to the world.  
  
**********  
  
It was supposed to have been so simple. The bride and groom loved each other. Their friends loved them too. Unfortunately, love was not the best way to describe how the friends felt about *each other*. Ike's choice of Buck as best man had been just as obvious as Lena's self-promotion as a bridesmaid. It shouldn't have caused any problems. But it did, because the two of them could not be kept in the same room. It only got worse as time passed.  
  
So, are you still thinking about going back to the Kiowa? Kid asked Buck after dinner one day.  
  
Lena, who had just gotten a peculiar looking needlework from her bag, stopped a second to see what the young Indian would answer.  
  
Buck didn't care much to talk about it, since he still hadn't made his decision. And having Lena listen in with that smart aleck look on her face didn't help either. A few days earlier she had declared that she didn't give much for a guy's intelligence who didn't eat fish, and although her tone had been mocking, he still hadn't forgiven her for that. You guys are my family, but... I don't really know where I belong.  
  
Then I suggest you ask yourself where you can live, Lena stated casually.  
  
He turned to her, irritated.  
  
Well, think about it. She moved on with her work. Who'd ever *choose* to be part of a dying nation? What are your choices there? Fight and die or give up and die. That's all. Right? She shrugged, and met his furious gaze.  
  
Are you saying we should just give up our way of life? he asked, and the riders were beginning to turn in their seats, uncomfortable. Lena, however, was unaware of the warning.  
  
If it's the alternative to suicide, yes. I'm not saying you have to *like* it. It's like cutting off an infected arm. It's a damn waste, but better than dying.  
  
Before Buck could give a fiery reply to that, Sandy put a hand on Lena's arm.  
I think to Buck, it's a little bit more complicated than that. Sort of like the old Christians choosing between martyrdom and Caesar's statue.  
  
Lena pondered this. Well, I'd choose Caesar's statue, that's for sure.  
  
Her friend smiled. Some of us have principles, my dear.  
  
And what good did that ever do to anyone? Lena's voice got more upper-class than ordinary. They knew by now that she wasn't really English but from a Swedish fisherman family, having moved to England as a child. You think this is the life I want? Course not. But better a living dog than a dead lion. Still, if I could be Cleopatra...  
  
She died, Rachel said, the first outside person to enter the conversation.  
  
Lena turned to her, a little surprised, then smiled.  
  
Yes. But everyone dies. A snake in the chest is as good a way as any.  
  
alright, this is getting a little morbid, Sandy said. Not to mention illogical. You think suicide is nifty but you won't let him commit it?  
  
Buck rose from his seat. I am not committing suicide!  
  
He burst out of the room, and Sandy slowly sank to her seat.  
  
I didn't help much, did I?  
  
He had no reason to get so touchy, Lena assured her.  
  
Ike looked at his fiancée, and although he didn't make any signs, his eyes told her clearly exactly how clueless Lena was. He rose and left the room to find his friend.  
  
He had every reason, darling. Sandy frowned, seriously worried. But the way you talk, it's easy to forget that there is a reality behind the words.  
  
**********  
  
Sandy and Ike were sitting in what was to be the living room of their not-so-finished home, going through the wedding list. He looked surprised at the number of names she had written down, and she blushed.  
  
If there are too many...  
  
*Not at all,* he assured her. *It's just... I never saw you as one for huge crowds.*  
  
She shrugged. Well, they won't come anyway.  
  
*Who?* That comment made him frown. If she wanted to invite a whole bunch of people, she deserved to have that bunch actually show up, too. His eyes fell on one of the first names, and he uncertainly signed: *Your father?* From what he knew, Sandy and her siblings didn't keep much in touch with their father.  
  
Oh, *he'll* come. If I have to have the baptizing before the wedding, I'll make sure he comes. She smiled. He does care about us, you know. Just because we don't meet all that often doesn't mean we don't love each other. No, I was talking about the newsteam. She sighed a little, and some of the sparks in her eyes faded. One or two more might be able to show up, but they have work to do, they can't just abandon the paper for me. No matter how much I'd like them to.  
  
The riders hadn't quite gotten into the habit of knocking when they entered a building that was, after all, not only half-finished but in their own back yard. That was why Buck walked in on them and heard that last comment.  
  
Well, why don't you send Lena back and bring someone else? he asked sourly.  
  
Sandy's eyes darkened dangerously in a way they really hadn't done since she got engaged. Say what? she asked in a tone that made Ike flinch. After all that opening up she had done, he didn't want it all ruined.  
  
Buck tightened his jaw, but couldn't stop himself from speaking. Why did you make her your bridesmaid? Correction, you didn't even make her one, she just waltzed in assuming she could be one!  
  
And she could. Sandy's voice was cold as ice. Now, you don't have to like that, but I suggest you learn to deal with it.  
  
That woman, Buck said, is nothing but a cold-hearted, manipulating little slut!  
  
Sandy's hand had hit him before he even saw it move.  
  
You don't have to like my friends. She was so very distant now, her eyes and voice seemed separate from her body. But if you can't behave politely, I don't want you at my wedding.  
  
Buck couldn't believe what he was hearing. You can't kick me out of the wedding!  
  
You bet I can. I'd prefer it if I don't have to, but the choice is yours.  
  
Buck's eyes wandered to Ike, looking for support, but he wasn't getting any. His friend simply shook his head, a painfully sad look in those ocean clear eyes.  
  
*She's right.*  
  
You're kicking me out too? Buck's voice was down to a whisper.  
  
*I want you there. You know I do. But not at the price of a fight.*  
  
Buck's face lost colour and he stared at Ike, trying to make sense of this. Then he simply turned and left, like a wounded animal. He didn't stop until he was by the stable, where he sat down on the ground, leaning his head in his hands. A weak sob shook his body. Of course he could behave politely if that was necessary, after all these years of scorn he had learned to swallow his pride when there was nothing else he could do. It wasn't *that*. But in all these years, it had always been him and Ike against the world. They had been safe in knowing that no one else could ever threaten that bond. This was the first time since they had met that Ike had sided against him. Sided with his future wife. It was the way it should be, but it hurt. In spite of Sandy's apparent love for Ike, and in spite of the baby that was coming, Buck had never really considered the possibility that the new family would mean so much to him. That it would mean more than Buck.  
  
**********  
  
Lena caught up with Jimmy before he entered the bunkhouse.  
  
she said, in a tone that clearly indicated that if she had a say in the matter, he wouldn't enter at all. To him, that wasn't a problem. He found Lena, although in a very not-beautiful way, quite attractive. She also had the advantage that, obnoxious as she may be, she was quite unlikely to get him hung or in other ways severely harmed.  
  
Hi. Shouldn't you be working?  
  
Shouldn't I always. She sighed. Mrs Dictator reluctantly allowed me to have Tuesday afternoon off, as planned, even though I had completed every chore in a satisfying way. She doesn't want me to go here. She has gotten into her head that I will do something immoral.  
  
And you won't? Jimmy asked, giving her a look that she could interpret any way she liked. He wasn't too displeased with the way she looked back.  
  
Oh, anything is immoral to her. Lena dismissed her employer with a shrug. She was here to visit a friend, work was done to finance that, not to make it impossible. Nobody owned her time but herself. Jimmy felt a bit of sympathy for Mrs. Warren who had to put up with such an impertinent maid, but on the other hand, the meek ones she had before had not put up with her for long.  
  
I thought I'd check on Sandy and see how the house is coming. You want to join me?  
  
They walked towards the new house, and Jimmy's hand found its way to Lena's waist. Instead of pushing it away, she leaned closer to him. Without throwing herself at him, this was the most obvious invitation he could get. And from what Sandy had hinted at moments, if he was to seduce her right now, right here, she probably wouldn't object. That was one reason why he didn't. Although he didn't see himself as vain, he preferred to know that a girl's interest in him was truly about *him* and not just a looseness bordering on desperation. So his hand stayed around her waist -- not advancing, but not removed.  
  
When they reached the house they stopped short at the startling sight. Sandy resembled a goddess of fury, pounding on the walls with her fists as Ike fruitlessly tried to calm her.  
  
Lena immediately slid out of Jimmy's grip, and with a few quick steps she had reached her friends' side. She tilted her head and looked with an interested smile at the cursing young woman.  
  
What a language! she said in an admiring voice. But you really shouldn't tear down the house before you have even finished building it.  
  
Sandy's darkened eyes turned to her, and then her lips curved. Guess not.  
  
What's the problem, anyway?  
  
Sandy sighed, then took it back. No, Buck.  
  
Make up your mind, Lena said, sitting down.  
  
I told him to be polite to you up until the wedding or not bother to come.  
  
Jimmy wasn't pleased with this. Buck was one of his closest friend, and Lena was less than popular among most of the riders, even if it didn't include him.  
  
The lady in question didn't seem very grateful either. You didn't have to do that. I'm hardly a pattern of politeness myself, I don't mind if he's rude.  
  
Well, I do. Sandy glanced at her future husband, but Ike did not seem inclined to join the conversation. And I'd really appreciate it if you tried to be on your best behaviour yourself.  
  
Lena's reply was quick. I would never intentionally do something to hurt you, you know that.  
  
Sandy stroked her cheek softly. The problem is what you do unintentionally. For some reason, Buck doesn't like you.  
  
For some reason, nobody likes me. That's not news. Lena sat down on the chair Sandy had earlier abandoned. She glanced at the invitation list but didn't comment on it.  
  
That's not true! Sandy argued fiercely, and her friend smiled.  
  
I know. You like me. And Jimmy likes me, don't you, Jimmy? She turned to the rider.  
  
he said, uncomfortable with this turn in the conversation, and she laughed at him.  
  
But he would like me even better if I didn't ask those kind of questions. Her eyes focused on Ike, and she got a thoughtful look on her face. As for Ike... I honestly don't know. That's interesting. Do you like me?  
  
Her tone was demanding, and Ike shrugged.  
  
Come on, be honest, she insisted. When she still got no reply she sighed. alright, so you don't like me, do you?  
  
He looked at her for a few seconds, and her pale blue eyes did not fold. Finally he shook his head, smiling. *But I don't mind you either.*  
  
Sandy seemed on the verge of slapping someone.  
  
Hey, it's alright, Lena protested, he doesn't have to like me. A cocky smile spread over her lips, but it was hard to tell if she was really amused. A nice boy who is spoken for rarely has any reason to appreciate my company. What else was it you said? She was still facing Ike, but the question obviously had to be answered by Sandy, who reluctantly repeated what her fiancé had said.  
  
Lena's smile softened. Well, I'll settle for that. She rose and stroked Sandy's cheek. Come on darling, go make peace with Buck. I'd do it myself, but I don't think he'll listen to me.  
  
Sandy took a deep breath. The problem, she said coolly, is that he *does* listen to you.  
  
That was the closest she got to a reproach. Instead of saying anything more, she pushed the guest list across the table to Ike and left the house to go looking for Buck.  
  
**********  
  
Buck's tears had dried by now, but he was still leaning his head in his hands, trying to think and not really succeeding. He kept telling himself that after all, Sandy liked the little bitch, he should have expected her to side with her. That wasn't really the problem. Because if it was reasonable for Sandy to stand by Lena, it was also reasonable for Ike to stand by *him* -- and he hadn't. His thoughts always stopped at that; there was no way to talk around it. He wasn't a part of the equation.  
  
  
  
No. He should have felt a slight tap on his shoulder to announce Ike's presence. This voice was all wrong. It wasn't Sandy he wanted here.  
  
She sat down next to him. I'm sorry about what I said. I went much too far. And for what it's worth, she's sorry too.  
  
he mumbled, waiting to hear what would come.  
  
Nothing did, for a while. Then she said, much softer than anything that had ever come out of her mouth: I want a good wedding, Buck. One that doesn't involve people ripping each others' heads off. I don't care if you hate Lena, go ahead, but I don't want to hear about it. I *need* to not have to hear about it.  
  
He ran his fingers over the ground, refusing to meet her eyes. I've tried staying out of trouble most of my life. I can keep doing it.  
  
She stood up, then leaned down and took his chin in her hand so he had to look at her. We want you there. Don't for a second think we don't. But you started this, you have to end it. Lena is just being her own idiotic self, I can't kick her out for that.  
  
Why not? he asked. Her eyes darkened and he hurried to add: I'm not arguing with you, I just want to know why.  
  
He needed to hear something positive about that dreadful woman. Sandy was no angel herself, but she was taking a lot of shit for her friend, and it couldn't be for no reason.  
  
She sighed. You're a sensible, smart, sane person, Buck.  
  
Thank you for the poetic compliment, he said. But it's not an answer.  
  
No. How about this then: socializing is luxury. It's that sort of stuff that matters when you're all fine. But when you're not so fine, you need someone who will hold on. Her face and voice were both agitated, trying to make him understand. I've had nice, decent friends. You won't believe how quick some of them leave when things get tough.  
  
Sure I would, he said, and he couldn't help a trace of bitterness from entering his voice.  
  
She stopped and stared at him for a second.  
  
I should just shut up and leave, shouldn't I?  
  
He realized what he had sounded like and regretted it.  
  
She shook her head. No, I should.  
  
He wanted to explain that it wasn't about her, that his hurt just got the better of him, but it wasn't really necessary. Turning snappish in a bad situation was natural for her, she understood it better than if he had been stoic about it.  
  
If you want to say something else, if there's something I've missed... she tried, and it struck him that he could actually like this girl.  
  
It's really Ike I want to talk to, he admitted, then hurried to say: But don't ask him, alright?  
  
He didn't know if she understood, but she nodded anyway and left him alone. The problem with the wedding was solved, he supposed, but that didn't mean everything was fine.  
  
**********  



	3. 

**********  
  
Ike didn't need to be told. Buck's eyes focusing on him at supper told him everything he needed to know. Since he had learned to communicate without words he had started to notice how other people did the same. An undetectable signal was passed forward between them, and after they had finished eating, they left together to talk it out.  
  
Ike leaned on the fence and looked expectantly at his friend, not asking any questions. For a moment, Buck didn't answer any either, just leaned back too and looked at the stars.  
  
Why couldn't you be on my side? he finally said, in a low voice.  
  
Ike looked at him, slightly stunned at the question. He hadn't really been anticipating it.  
  
*What you asked wasn't reasonable.*  
  
That's not the point. Buck rose and took a few steps away, not able to stand still. If Sandy could be loyal to that woman, why couldn't you be loyal to me? Why did you have to go side against me? He turned back to Ike to expect the answer.  
  
It dawned on Ike why his friend was so upset, and he knew that Buck was right, but he was also wrong in a way that was hard to explain. Ike sighed and thought for a minute.  
  
*If Kid and Jimmy where holding each other at gunpoint, who would you ask to put down the gun?*  
  
Buck was confused, and irritated, at Ike's way of avoiding the question, but his friend just nodded for him to answer. Uhm... Kid.  
  
*Even if Jimmy started it?*  
  
I guess so. Jimmy wouldn't stop as long as Kid didn't, but he wouldn't shoot an unarmed man, either.  
  
Ike nodded, satisfied with the answer. *You make demands from the person likely to listen. Lena is flippant and patronizing with everyone. But you're better than that.*  
  
Buck snorted, but the warmth in Ike's expression calmed his anger.  
  
So you're just mean to me because you respect me, right?  
  
An amused wrinkle showed up between Ike's eyebrows, and he nodded solemnly. Their hands met for a brief moment, as a gesture of reconciliation. Then Buck turned to leave, but before he had gone far, Ike tapped him on the shoulder.  
  
What is it now? Buck asked, sounding grumpy although he was actually relieved.  
  
*Words don't always say it all,* Ike replied. He saw in his friend's face that this was information Buck couldn't quite understand yet. It didn't matter. He had passed his knowledge on, and it was up to Buck to think about it.  
  
**********  
  
It was obvious Jimmy hadn't come to the marshal's office for a light chat. He did acknowledge Teaspoon's greeting, but only with a small nod, before getting seated and leaning his chin on his knuckles, face frowning.  
  
This was the perfect opening for a what's troubling you, son? followed by a good advice and some time in the sweat lodge. The only problem was that Teaspoon knew very well what was troubling Jimmy, and he very much doubted any piece of good advice would prove sufficient. Sweat might, but not the kind of sweat Teaspoon could provide, and certainly not in the long run. Love of a woman he could talk about forever, love of a woman who is wrong for you even more so. But there's really not much to be said about love of a woman who is wrong for herself. Teaspoon was more than willing to believe a girl like Lena wouldn't hurt Jimmy. She hadn't hurt the young couple either, but hurt they were. She was the mental version of a nice good swim during a thunderstorm. At least she didn't seem completely unaware of that fact, since she had stayed away from the bunkhouse lately and chosen to let Sandy come to her instead of the other way around. It meant they had to deal with Mrs. Warren, who was a bit much to take even on a good day. Teaspoon had seen the dirty looks Sandy got from people, the looks that noticed nothing but her olive skin, her accent and her growing belly. She carried it with her head held high in a way she had most definitely learned from Lena's experience. He wondered briefly how the girls felt about having the roles reversed, but on the other hand it seemed like the level of bad reputation would be back to normal soon. Mrs. Warren, of course, would trash them both, but Mrs. Warren trashed everyone except possibly the Lord Jesus himself (and he wouldn't care to bet on that). Apparently undiscriminating prejudice was better than directed loathing. The only problem was where that left Jimmy, which was far away from the girl who had spent the last few weeks, when she wasn't accidentally aggravating people, with making Jimmy very interested in her.  
  
There were times, of course, when Buck and the Kid, the main adversaries, were both out on a ride at the same time, and the mood lightened enough for the enfant terrible to come around. But those times were far between, and it was true, Teaspoon did very little to increase them. This had been his family for his past years, and he didn't like the cracks that were beginning to show. But that wasn't the main reason he didn't want her around. The main reason was that when you weren't the target, she was actually quite funny. And he didn't want to laugh when she commented on Buck's confusion or Kid's Galahad complex, because in truth it wasn't humorous. What she cut apart with her sharp tongue wasn't some sort of glossy facade, it was their lives, their personalities. It didn't matter if, to her eyes, they were kidding themselves, their illusions were crucial to their existence.  
  
Jimmy said with a sigh, breaking the silence, What do you think of her?  
  
He didn't need to specify. Teaspoon stared out the window, pondering what to reply. I think she's stirring up trouble.  
  
Jimmy snorted, making a wry face, and Teaspoon nodded towards the window.  
  
Over at Tompkins' store.  
  
Jimmy quickly rose and walked up to Teaspoon, looking over the older man's shoulder to see what was going on outside. Seeing the girl out there, her head tossed back as she was involved in a heated debate with Tompkins, he lit up and hurried outside.  
  
...rules that need to be followed, he heard from the store owner as he approached the store.  
  
I see. Lena's face was hot pink, but not from anger, just the strange excitement she got from outwitting people. Do you know who made those rules? Oh hello, Jimmy, she added when the rider was almost close enough to touch her. Her attention was still focused on Tompkins, waiting for his answer.  
What do you mean, who made them? It's just common decency...  
  
...So you *don't* know. Neither do I. But I can assure you of one thing, whoever made them isn't following them. Rules are a weapon made to control the fools, and if you follow them you're bound to be buggered.  
  
The sportsmanlike way of doing things... Tompkins started, and Lena shook her head in a way just a little too arrogant.  
The bullies always win. The greatest conquerors of the world weren't exactly gentleman like. If you take the Romans, once they started to get manners...  
That was when Jimmy realized she could go on like this forever if nobody stopped her. History only filled up her stock of argument, and by the look on Tompkins' face, he already found her insufferable. Jimmy reacted immediately, taking Lena's chin in his hand and firmly placing his mouth on hers. He felt her lips curve into a smile, and she gave a slight humming sound that was halfway between amusement and delight. He closed his eyes for a moment just to enjoy this, and when he opened them, Tompkins had gone back into the store. Thank God. Taking a deep breath, he let go of her mouth, and she immediately turned her head around, only to see that her opponent was gone.  
  
Now, what was that all about? she asked, grinning.  
  
The truth? Shut you up. Julius Caesar is a bit heavy a subject.  
  
Why, I didn't expect the great gunfighter Wild Bill Hickok even to have heard of Julius Caesar, she replied. He let that pass, knowing that she was teasing him. If he let a comment like that aggravate him, he would never hear the end of it. She seductively put her arms around his neck, and he was beginning to wonder if this had been a bad move, but decided against it.  
  
And then the stage coach arrived.  
  
**********  
  
Be careful with that box, a voice with a slight Spanish lilt told the driver. There's porcelain in it.  
  
Lena quickly released herself from Jimmy and turned to the emerging passengers with a wide, and strangely genuine, smile.   
  
The man who had talked to the driver looked up. His thin frame made him look shorter than he was, but the face was a fine-looking one, framed by dark hair and with deep blue eyes. There was something vaguely familiar about him, and even more so in the smile with which he greeted Lena back.  
  
Lena! And a man. Why am I not surprised?  
  
You know me? she suggested. Rushing down from the porch she proceeded to kiss both the man and his female company in the Mediterranean fashion. Noticing Jimmy's awkwardness, she threw out her arm to introduce him, waving for him to come say hello. He obeyed, but chose to simply shake hands instead of kissing these strangers. This is Jimmy Hickok, a colleague of Ike's. Jimmy, this is of course Sandy's father, Juan Jesús Fernandez, more commonly known as Jotas, and his lovely ladyfriend Lola Marquez. Dolores if you want to be exact, but you don't. You didn't bring the girls?  
  
Jotas' brow furrowed. Were they invited?  
  
Lola smacked him gently in the chest. She wasn't the sort of woman known as beautiful, but her light brown face had a pleasant, humorous character. They are in Mexico for the time being, and they chose to remain there. After all, they don't really know Aleja very well. Her voice was different from Jotas', more like Sandy's, and Jimmy realized that he was hearing the difference between the Mexican and the Spanish accents.  
  
Jotas asked, where is my girl?  
  
Down at the station. Lena's eagerness fell a little. I'm sure Jimmy can take you there.  
  
You won't come?  
  
Unbelievable. She was actually at a loss for words. And blushing, too. Of course, she had been blushing all along, so it was hard to tell the cause.  
  
Sure she will, Jimmy said firmly. Doing what he would have done with any other girl in an awkward position, he put his arm around her waist, and she arched her back away from him, making his arm fall down with a single movement. Her motives might be questionable, but she apparently wouldn't allow his to be anything other than desire. No protective instinct, no save face procedure, absolutely no pity.  
  
Lena smiled widely at the guests, the strain barely evident on her face. Sandy will be so glad you're finally here. You can definitely count yourself as the guest of honour.  
  
I'm glad, Jotas said, resting his eyes thoughtfully on Lena. Now, my dear girl, you have to fill me up on all the latest news. I heard you mother had gotten married again?  
  
She has, Lena said, helping them put the luggage on the carriage to go to the station. His name is Tomas. Nice chap, really, it might even last for a while. It would be good for Kajsa to have a man about the house.  
  
Jotas raised an eyebrow as he sat up. And what about you?  
  
She smiled a little. A man? Oh, most definitely. But I'm a little too old for a new stepfather, don't you think?  
  
Could be, Jotas agreed. This seemed to make his mind stray elsewhere. So, how is Aleja these days?  
  
Growing bigger every day, Lena said with a smile. She's calling the baby Joshua -- won't even listen to the thought that it might be a girl.  
  
Jotas said with a frown, apparently trying to understand what would make his daughter choose that name.  
  
After Father Sullivan, Lena pointed out. Father as father, right?  
  
Jotas gave her a long look. Listen, young lady, it's really not your place to have objections to Sandy's upbringing, so I'd appreciate a little less impertinence.  
  
Lena gave a smile that was almost sweet. Yes, sir.  
  
Jotas sat silent for a while, trying to phrase the next question. And this Ike boy? What's he like?  
  
Lena looked at Jimmy, smiling a little with her tongue between her teeth. He's the sort of bloke a cat would refuse to play with for lack of fun... but pretty much perfect for a girl who is serious.  
  
Well, she has always been serious, Jotas said, not very much relieved by the comment. But it's the second time an Anglo has gotten her into trouble.  
  
Ike's not like that, Jimmy said, and Lena looked at him as if she had forgotten he was there.  
  
I second that opinion, she said.  
  
Well, then there's no need to worry! Lola cut in, clearly tired of hearing her man's objections. And if you get your brow unfurrowed you might see that your daughter is here.  
  
And indeed Sandy was standing there, waving her arms at the carriage, and behind her Ike was coming up. In spite of her skirts, Lola was the first one down, holding her stepdaughter at arm's length. Well, look at you, girl!  
  
Jotas was a little slower down, and seemed more hesitant in his enthusiasm. Yes... look at you. Then he got himself together and smiled, bringing the big box down from the carriage. Can you guess what this is?  
  
Sandy smiled widely. I don't have to guess. Sunday porcelain, twelve of everything.  
  
That's right, Jotas agreed.  
  
Ike had put his hands on Sandy's shoulders, and she put her hands on his. Then we can get married.  
  
  
**********  
  
The day before the wedding, Jotas sat down and watched the young couple. Upon taking a look in those of Lena's bags Mrs. Warren found ungodly, Sandy had decided being a redhead might be fun for the time being, and so she was sitting with her hair wrapped in a towel, waiting for the henna to work. Ike had been more than willing to spend the four hours simply caressing each other, but the presence of the father of the bride sort of put a damper on that.  
  
You could at the very least pretend to be happy for us, Sandy told her father.  
  
I am happy, Aleja, Jotas replied. But I'm worried as well. It seems to me you're rushing into this, and it will be... well, rough.  
  
I know it's going to be rough, Sandy replied, and there was ice in her voice. I just don't plan on giving up.  
  
Ike put a hand on hers, and she sighed. I'm sorry, papá, that was low.  
  
That's alright. I just don't think you understand the implications of Ike being... He shrugged.  
  
*Mute?* Ike suggested.  
  
That too, Jotas replied, grasping the fairly obvious sign correctly. But I was thinking more of 'white'.  
  
Papá, I hate to tell you this, but you're white too.  
  
But I'm not an Anglo. They look at things differently.  
  
Ike shook his head to show that Jotas had nothing to worry about. *My best friend is part Indian,* he pointed out, and Sandy translated.  
  
It's not the Indian part I'm worried about.  
  
Oh for crying out loud, Sandy huffed, and Ike stared at her. Apparently it was clear to her what her father was talking about, but to Ike he might as well have been speaking Chinese.  
  
Marosi's father... Aleja's grandfather... was a mulatto, Jotas explained cautiously. Light enough to pass for Mexican, which he did, but that doesn't change facts. Some people would argue that even the child you're expecting is black.  
  
As if that mattered, Sandy said impatiently. But she couldn't stop her eyes from becoming rather uncertain as they turned to Ike for confirmation. To some people it would have mattered. Ike automatically reached out and took her hand to show her support, but he was still thinking. At this point he would have married Sandy even if she turned out to be completely black, but the question was if he *could*, legally. He asked as much, and although Sandy's frown deepened, she translated the question to her father.  
  
The look of surprise Jotas gave him told Ike that he hadn't expected that kind of insight. Ike cynically accepted that look as one of many things that proved that although his future father in law *wanted* to treat Ike like a normal person, he wasn't quite capable of it yet.  
  
I'm not sure what the law says, Jotas replied slowly. We were always very careful not to ask. And besides, we got married in Mexico, where the laws may be different. It's possible one eighth would make no difference. He shrugged, and his eyes softened. Then again, it's possible that it might. That's a risk you'll have to take, that some day someone may claim you're not really married at all.  
  
He rose from his seat and patted Sandy's cheek softly before he left for the door. I just wanted to make sure you knew that.  
  
Ike wrapped his arms around Sandy, protective of them both, and signed anyway, so that he signed with her body as much as his own, *Thank you.*  
  
Sandy giggled and said something in Spanish that was a little too quick and long for Ike to grasp, and he quite got the feeling that this was her intention.  
  
Now, where was we? she asked when her father had left, cuddling closer to Ike. They had to be careful not to disturb her turban, but that just made the adventure bigger. Unfortunately, they were once again interrupted, this time by Jimmy.  
  
*What?* Ike asked, clearly disappointed.  
  
Jimmy seemed uncharacteristically awkward. It can wait.  
  
Sandy repeated, loosening herself slightly from Ike, and Jimmy halted with his hand on the door knob.  
  
I've been meaning to talk to you... about Lena.  
  
Sandy looked amused. You don't need my blessing to approach her.  
  
That's not what I meant. Jimmy didn't find the situation funny at all. It's just that I've been talking some to your friends... and then there was something your father said some time ago... I just want to know a few things.  
  
The amusement immediately disappeared from Sandy's face. I'm not in the habit of gossiping about my friends.  
  
I didn't mean gossip, just... I want to know.  
  
So why don't you ask her?  
  
I don't know... What if it's something she doesn't want to talk about? I don't want to hurt her.  
  
Don't want to hurt *her*? Sandy calmed down at that remark. Well, that's a first. She looked up at Ike, who shrugged and headed for the door, holding up five fingers with a questioning glance. She nodded, and as the door closed behind her fiancé she turned back to Jimmy. So, what is it then? Have the Gallaghers been talking?  
  
Yes... well, it's partly that. The Gallagher brothers had been the only ones to arrive from the busy newsteam to participate in the wedding. They were both tall, green-eyed and auburn-haired, but while Brendan was always ready for a laugh and a flirt, Paddy had a tendency towards brooding. And both of them had brought a whole new dimension to what Jimmy thought he knew about the girls.  
  
So what did they say?  
  
Brendan just said that Lena was a lovely woman. But I got the impression...  
  
Sandy's voice warned him not to take it any further.  
  
And Paddy said... Jimmy frowned, trying to remember the cold, furious words. 'If you roll in the mud for the fun of it, don't mock the ones that have nowhere else to go.'   
  
Sandy raised an eyebrow and gave a lopsided smile. Quite the Irish poet, isn't he?  
  
Is it true? Doesn't she have anywhere else to go?  
  
I don't know, Sandy said slowly. I don't think she thinks so... and that's really all that matters, isn't it?  
  
And what about her mother? Jimmy asked, remembering the other conversation.  
  
Her mother is a charming, intelligent woman who loves her daughter and never intended for any of this to happen, Sandy replied. I have a feeling that's not what you really want to know.  
  
Jimmy just looked at her, then shrugged. Forget it.  
  
Sandy grimaced. Three husbands, an endless row of admirers... a relationship with a married man about twenty years ago.  
  
Jimmy nodded. That's more or less what I thought.  
  
You haven't even met Meg, Sandy pointed out. And I think you'll find that when it comes to Lena, the more you know the less you understand.  
  
But you love her.  
  
That I do. Sandy waved at him like a queen in dismissal. Now get out of here and bring in Ike. I have a wedding to prepare for, and the last thing I need is puffy eyes.  
  
**********  
  



	4. 

**********  
  
Shouldn't you be trying to catch that? Jimmy sneaked an arm around the waist of Lena, who was giggling through her glove at the gathering of young girls outside the City Hall.  
  
I think not, she replied with a grimace. But you're welcome to try if you want to.  
  
It's a girl thing, he stated calmly.  
  
Oh, I doubt anyone would tell the difference. She leaned back against the wall, highly amused. My money's with Teaspoon's saloon girl, she looks like she could catch something.  
  
Jimmy forced down a smile. I won't even try to understand what that implicated, because I'm sure it's not a compliment to Amanda. But if you want to bet, I'm going with Lou.  
  
Lena wrinkled her nose, but before she got a chance to answer, Sandy threw her bouquet and Lou jumped up to catch it. A smirk spread over Jimmy's face.  
  
So, what do I get?  
  
We never actually made a bet, she said, moving closer, but I have a few suggestions.  
  
Being a man, Jimmy moved closer as well, by reaction only, before his mind kicked in. Although it was very hard for him to decide if he was to treat Lena like a lady or a woman of ill repute, he knew Sandy's point of view on this and what she would do to him if she found something out. For some reason, that woman had a wicked opinion of men.  
  
All other men than her own groom, that was. At the moment they were giving a whole new dimension to you may kiss the bride.  
  
said Sandy when Ike for a moment let go, and he immediately shut her up. In another pause, she was able to continue. Does the honeymoon *really* start already?  
  
Ike nodded solemnly and took her mouth into his again. She didn't stop talking, which caused a quite intriguing muffled noise inside his mouth. A grin spread over his face and he let go, spreading his hands to let her finish.  
  
Do we have to go to the party?  
  
People were waiting all around them, ready to go, and although reluctant, Ike had to nod. *I'm afraid so.*  
  
Not that the party proved to be that bad. The restaurant had been given a fair amount of money and thus had forgotten all objections to letting the motley group hire it for the evening. There were about forty people gathered there, and Ike found he knew remarkably many of them, considering that when it came to families, Sandy had two more than him, colleagues included. Some closer than others -- her father hadn't given her away and grabbed his opportunity at the dinner table, standing up to speak.  
  
Let me introduce myself to those of you who don't know me. Which is, admittedly, most of you. My name is Juan Jesús Fernandez, and it is my daughter who is getting married here today. He stopped, giving a half apologetic, half sardonic smile. She and Ike McSwain, a man I had not previously met, but that I have come to believe is a good man. From this day on he'll be my son in law -- whatever that means.  
  
Ike smiled. In spite of Jotas' uncomfortable attitude, he quite liked him. But in truth, he as well found it hard to think of him as family. It wasn't as with Marosi and the young ones, that had taken him in as a boarder and that he was familiar with. Not even Sandy seemed to be familiar with her father.  
  
Jotas echoed as much. Of course, these days I'm not even sure what it means to have a daughter. It's hard to see a young lady and know this is your little girl... and you missed seeing her grow up. He frowned a little. Now, I understand that Ike spent far too much of his life on his own, but what I don't know is what experiences he has with marriage. Whether he finds it to be a good thing, or something that usually fails. But I know Sandy didn't have much reason to look forward to it. A marriage that didn't work out, he nodded towards Marosi, and continued turning to the ones he mentioned. A life in sin that did. A first love that proved quite unworthy. A brother, eager to love, but with an unusual sense of moral. A wicked grin played at his lips. An illegitimate child living up to the example of previous generations. It seems everywhere around her, there have been people the church would call sinners. Yet, speaking of the church, he moved his head to admit another viewpoint. In her new home town, I know she has a good spiritual leader, who sadly couldn't be here today. Maybe that helped, even though I doubt a priest is the man to give marital advice. Whatever the reason, my Aleja is determined to break the pattern, and after seeing these two together, I actually believe she will.  
  
He raised his glass. And so, I ask all of you to join me in a toast for these two people, who have proven their courage just by taking this step. To their marriage.  
  
The guests echoed his words and drank to the young couple, who were beaming at each other. Ike raised an eyebrow. *He's good.*  
  
I know, she mouthed, grinning. Whatever her relationship was with her father, she was obviously proud that he had done well. Can we eat now?  
  
They started away on the marinated chicken and weren't interrupted until about half an hour later, when Cody stood up.  
  
One of the most important things for a successful marriage is recognizing each other. *Every* part of each other. He paused. Including the ankles. So, Sandy, if you would put on this blindfold, we'll have all of the Express Riders standing on these chairs, and you are to determine which one of them is your husband. Riders, please roll up your pant legs.  
  
Sandy started to laugh, and Ike, who had been completely unprepared for this, did the same. They both rose from their seats. *Think you'll manage?*  
  
She gave him a wicked grin. I think by now I know your ankles.*  
  
**********  
  
Later that night she was playing with said ankles, running her fingers over them in little circles. Ike laughed. *Still upset that you lost?*  
  
She gave him a fake pout. I was close though. Continuing up his leg, she said, No, it's really more about making sure I don't lose again.  
  
Since she was sitting by his feet, all he could do was wait while she proceeded even further. He drew a deep breath and sat up to stop her hand. Her smile was wicked. **That*... I know you're familiar with.*  
  
Nothing wrong with a girl learning more.  
  
He sat up higher so he could grab her around the waist to pull her down. She immediately curled up by his side like a child. I love you.  
  
Which was wonderful, and exactly what he wanted to hear, only not like that. He gently pulled her up again and looked intensely at her.  
  
  
  
He shook his head slowly.  
  
I do, you know.  
  
Without actually signing, he made a very explicit gesture. She tilted her head. What, you can't even ask nicely.  
  
He rolled his eyes. *Please... finish what you started.*  
  
She laughed and lay down. Yes, husband.  
  
**********  
  
Jimmy woke up with a start. It was still dark outside, and he had no idea what time it was, but that wasn't the most important thing right now.  
  
Something was wrong. His stomach felt like a cannon ball, but that was only natural; after all, he had stuffed down quite an amount of food last night. And yes, there had been the occasional drink as well. Given the occasion, Teaspoon had chosen to overlook. It wasn't *that*. There was something wrong... about Lena.  
  
But that was just ridiculous. She had been fine last night, they had a great time. Since most of the people around didn't care for her, she stuck to Jimmy most of the night and they had thoroughly enjoyed the conversation. She had even managed to avoid getting into arguments, talking only to people that could keep her in check. There had been times when Paddy Gallagher had given her a dark glance, but it seemed more like disappointment than actual dislike, and she had laughed it away. Then, far later than appropriate, Jimmy had followed her home, and she had gone inside. That had been it. A lovely night.  
  
There was definitely something wrong. Refusing to ignore the feeling any longer, Jimmy left his bunk and started looking for his trousers. He hoped the others would stay asleep, since he'd have a hard time explaining what he was doing up if they woke up. He couldn't very well say that he was going to check on his latest fling. Finding his clothes, he quickly put them on and hurried outside to fetch his horse.  
  
It was dark at Mrs. Warren's house. Obviously, what had he expected? He went closer and was suddenly uncertain what to do. Knocking the door was out of the question, and he strongly disliked the thought of throwing stones on Lena's window like some schoolboy. Besides, he didn't even know which window was hers. The horse moved impatiently by his side, and he decided to put it into the stable while he was waiting. If Mrs. Warren saw that as trespassing, so be it.  
  
There was another horse in the stable that looked nervous, and its emotions spread to his own. He tied it up and went closer to see what was startling the animals. A large bundle of something turned out to be Lena, half-sitting towards the stable wall and apparently sleeping. Only her face was fully visible in the moonlight from the small window. He leaned down and stroked some hair from her face, and she moved a little. Her eyes were still open, but unfocused.  
  
  
  
Yeah, it's me. He felt easier at mind now that he had found her, but he still couldn't get past the feeling that something was wrong. She mumbled something and feebly reached up a hand to touch him.  
  
Glad... here... wouldn't want... die alone...  
  
And then he finally saw her arm clearly, and the darkness that could only mean one thing. The darkness that, now that he looked, was staining her lap as well. Swearing to himself, he softly lifted her up, terrified at what she had done to herself. A shard of glass fell from her hand, and as he moved towards the exit his foot kicked the remainders of a broken lamp. The only thing he could tie around her wounds was his own shirt, and so he ripped the sleeves to shreds, trying to stop the bleeding before he hauled her up on the horse.  
  
Why did you do a stupid thing like that? he complained.  
  
But Lena no longer answered him.  
  
**********  
  
At first they ignored the pounding on the door, but after a while it got so loud Sandy reluctantly rolled out of bed, and Ike, moving faster, went to open it. At the sight of Jimmy in his bloodied, torn shirt, he immediately forgot all nasty thoughts about what to do with people who disturbed your wedding night.  
  
*What happened?* he asked, trying to find out where the wound was, but Jimmy shook his head.  
  
I'm fine. Lena... I took her to the doctor...  
  
What's wrong with her? Sandy asked, stepping forward. The night was cold and they were all getting goose bumps.  
  
Jimmy took a deep breath and finally got it out. She cut herself.  
  
Sandy stood absolutely still for a moment, then she nodded and turned around. Let me get dressed.  
  
Both men watched in shock as she calmly went inside to get her apron and shawl. Jimmy raised a hand in confusion and Ike shook his head, not able to answer that. When Sandy returned, Ike tried to comfort her, partly because he needed comforting himself. He hadn't seen her like this for months, and it scared him just as much as the implications of what Jimmy had told them. Not particularly interested in comfort, Sandy just gave him a half-hearted pat on the arm and frowned when she realized he was still in long johns. Aren't you coming?  
  
Ike hesitated for a second. Someone had to tell Teaspoon what had happened, and meeting Jimmy's frightened gaze, he knew who that someone must be. And so he slowly shook his head. *You go with Jimmy. I'll come later.*  
  
She looked as if she was about to argue, but Jimmy had the sense to put an arm around her shoulders. Although his shirt was stiffening from the blood, she relaxed at the touch and let herself be led to the stable. Throughout the journey she said nothing, but when Jimmy slowed down his horse outside the doctor's house, she jumped off hers and asked in a low, impassionate voice: How bad is it?  
  
I don't know, Jimmy said, turning towards her. He felt as if he was about to throw up. She was alive when I left.  
  
He proceeded into the house and up the stairs, refusing to continue the thought: *But she may not be now.* Sandy's thoughts may have gone in the same directions, because she hurried past him and knocked on the door.  
  
Doctor Stewart had one of those faces that always look melancholy, regardless of the situation. At the moment it was rather fitting. He read the unasked question in their eyes and opened the door. She's sleeping at the moment.  
  
There was an immediate change in Sandy's posture, like a violin string being loosened. She'll live, then?  
  
She did lose a lot of blood, and it is really too early to tell... Stewart took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. I'm hopeful, I must say. The wounds weren't as grave as they may have seemed, and the blood had already started to clot by the time she was found.  
  
Jimmy, who had been half convinced she would die while he was away, found a chair to sink into. Suddenly the doctor's decision to have him get Sandy didn't seem as cruel as it originally had.  
  
Did she cut this way or that? Sandy asked, slowly drawing a cross on her wrist. Jimmy had no idea what this had to do with anything, but the doctor looked appreciative.  
  
Across the wrist, he said. There were several cuts, most of them not very deep. It's possible that what she attempted to do was... I don't know how to put it... merely to hurt herself.  
  
Sandy nodded firmly, steel in her dark eyes. I'm going to murder that little puta.  
  
Jimmy stared at her in utter shock. He couldn't believe what she had just said. This was her best friend on the brink of death, and she was angry?  
  
She just had to do it on my wedding night, too, Sandy continued, working up a rage. Scaring everyone like that, carving holes in herself -- I should have noticed something!  
  
Jimmy said, unable to argue with the emotion. He felt it himself, and he had only known Lena for a very short period of time.   
  
Sandy sank back into her chair, muttering chosen curses in Spanish.  
  
**********  
  
Jimmy didn't know how long he had been waiting. People kept coming and coming and going, and occasionally he ate something, but he didn't leave unless it was absolutely necessary. Nobody had argued, even to make him work. He wasn't going to leave until he had been let inside. Now finally Lena had woken up, but Sandy had requested to go inside first, and he couldn't really deny her that. She was a friend, while he was just a flirt. But he still had Lena's stiffening blood on his shirt and her pale face imprinted in his mind, and he wasn't leaving until he got something else to replace that. It was just as important as Sandy's need to shout her lungs out -- which, as far as he could tell, couldn't be speeding up the recovery any.  
  
The door opened once again, and he quickly looked up, searching for an affirmative in Sandy's flushed face. She just shrugged and looked at the doctor, who smiled a little.  
  
I don't see why you shouldn't go in. You can't possibly upset the patient any more than Mrs. McSwain did.  
  
I didn't upset her, Sandy said in a short tone, and the doctor's smile widened.  
  
No, it seems you didn't, which is the only reason you were allowed inside as long as you were. He turned to look at Jimmy. She's still unconscious half of the time, but you may as well wait in there as out here.  
  
Jimmy stood up so quickly his chair almost fell over. Yes, Doctor. Thank you.  
  
He hurried inside, but halted when he saw how sick she looked, her pale face void of all those smart-aleck expressions that usually filled it. Slowly, he sat down next to her, afraid she would turn out to be dead in spite of what the doctor had said. But he could see that her chest was moving, and when he sat down she opened her eyes, giving him half a smile.  
  
I wasn't asleep, she explained, although her voice was still drowsy. I just rested my eyes a little.  
  
Jimmy replied, not about to argue. He didn't know whether he was supposed to touch her or not. According to normal sickbed procedure he should take her hand, but Lena wasn't much of a hand-holding girl. Besides, her arms were still wrapped up in bandages, and he didn't want to move them in case they hurt. Now he was here, seeing with his own eyes that she was alive, and he had no idea what to do or say next. He couldn't start yelling like Sandy had, even though it might have been a way of saying a couple of those things he couldn't seem to get out. He'd seen people about to die before, just never because they wanted to. Of course, according to what the doctor and Sandy had been saying, the wounds weren't supposed to kill her. It made him feel awkward and stupid. They had sure looked serious enough.  
  
There was really just one way to find out. Did you want to die?  
  
She looked away, staying silent for so long he was about to repeat the question before she answered, I didn't particularly want to live. But I did it... Her voice faded away.  
  
You did it... Jimmy repeated, really needing to hear the answer.  
  
I did it to see if I was real.  
  
How on earth was he supposed to respond to that?   
  
Turning back to face him, she frowned hard in concentration. Do you ever feel like you're supposed to know how to run your life, but you have forgotten and people won't tell you?  
  
Not really, he replied honestly. Most of the time people have no trouble telling me how to run my life.  
  
She laughed at that, which relieved him. Then her eyes began to drift shut, and he stayed by her side, expecting her to fall asleep. Instead, she opened her eyes again, suddenly clear-headed.  
  
All they tell me is what not to do. I've learned that very well... She laughed again. So well that when I just can't take it anymore, this whole other me takes over, who is all composed of things I mustn't be. And I don't mind. Let her! I always thought I was a changeling, did you know that?  
  
He shook his head, not willing to interrupt. He had a feeling she had wanted to say this for a very long time.  
  
I wish I was. At least goblins and trolls... they have their place.  
  
This time she did fall asleep, and he stayed in his chair, refusing to leave. He knew now that she was going to live, but he wasn't sure what difference that would make.  
  
**********  
  
Finally persuaded to let himself out of the doctor's house, Jimmy bumped into one of the Gallaghers on the street. He still hadn't quite learned which one was which, since this was the first time he had seen one without the other, but he vaguely recalled Brendan being the charming one. In which case this one, with the perpetual scowl, would have to be Paddy.  
  
How is she? the young Irishman asked, and Jimmy shrugged.  
  
  
  
The scowl deepened. I've got a feeling Bren has to take some of the responsibility.  
  
He looked Jimmy over and his facial expression lightened to a form of melancholy. You look like shit. Care to come over and have a drink before you go change your shirt?  
  
I don't drink, Jimmy said, a lot more casually than he would have only a year ago. Company rules.  
  
Paddy looked as shook up as if Jimmy had said his religious preferences was to offer a black she-goat every new moon, but he soon got over it. Well, there's got to be something your company doesn't forbid?  
  
Jimmy tried to smile and succeeded remarkably well. I could have a sarsaparilla with you, I guess.  
  
Paddy muttered with a grimace, but didn't make any attempt to chide Jimmy for it. Yes, you do that. I'll... have something stronger, if you don't mind. Feel I need it at a time like this.  
  
Sure, go ahead, Jimmy said, following the other man into the saloon. He couldn't help but wonder what Paddy thought of Lena, if that scowl meant something more than a generally displeased way of looking at life. Then again, if it had been one of the riders in there, Jimmy would have felt even stronger about it than he already did, so there might be actual friendship involved. She just didn't seem like the kind of girl that made many friends, though. And from the other brother's comments... What did you mean, your brother had to take responsibility?  
  
Paddy had just taken his first sip of bitter, and now put the glass down with a sigh. It could be completely unrelated, I don't know. But there was this story some time ago that just wouldn't break. A politician -- we all suspected he was crooked, but we couldn't get the evidence. Then Brendan suggested that Lena... Paddy spun the glass between his hands, words failing him. I don't know the details, but she broke the story alright.  
  
And you think that... Well, why would he be surprised? I guess that's something she would do.  
  
No, it isn't. Paddy's accent thickened, and his deep green eyes met Jimmy's. I know it may not seem like a big deal for a girl like her, but I've heard her say more than once that 'at least I choose my men out of fancy and not for fortune like the honourable women'. Her standards may not be... well, mine, but she's always been truthful and loyal. She went behind that man's back for a story, and he may have deserved it, but I think it's eating at her. I'm not saying it's the reason, but she manages quite well to do stupid things on her own, she doesn't need Bren's encouragement.  
  
There was something in his voice even Jimmy could detect, and he asked with a bit of caution, So, how do you feel about Lena?  
  
The answer surprised him. Have you ever read 'Sense and Sensibility'?  
  
Can't say I have, said Jimmy, who had in fact never heard of it. It didn't sound like a good read, either.  
  
There's this girl in that story... she's treated badly by the man she loves and so she settles down with a friend, marries a man she doesn't really love. He paused, watching his glass with utmost intensity. I can't really see that happening.  
  
Standing up, he patted Jimmy in the back. Come on, you need to get out of that shirt. People are staring.  
  
**********  
  



	5. 

**********  
  
Come over here, Sandy said, pulling at Ike's hand. She was lying down in their bed to rest her back, but her head was neither tired nor aching, and she had explained her need for company. Her husband obliged, sitting down next to her, and she took his hand to her belly. He watched her frowning face expectantly.  
  
*Jo*, he was all at it a moment ago... come now Joshua, show your father how strong you are. She gave herself a push and was rewarded with a movement in the opposite direction. There you go! Isn't he the fighter?  
  
Ike's smile was even prouder than Sandy's. *Definitely.* His eyes narrowed in jest as he continued, *Are you so sure it's a he?*  
  
Of course he is, Sandy said, stroking her belly. Otherwise he couldn't be a Joshua.  
  
The logic of that was irreproachable, but there was still something to be said: *Don't I get a say in the naming?*  
  
Sandy had a smile on her face, but he could see she was serious. It's... important to me. Symbolic, I guess you could say. She saw his expression and gave a slight grimace. I know it sounds selfish. And you can name the next one, I promise.  
  
He lay down with his ear against her stomach, but obviously the baby made no sounds. It didn't even move anymore. *Next one?*  
  
He looked so eager she had to laugh. Hey, give me a chance to get this one out first, will you?  
  
There was a knock on the door, and Ike contemplated taking his hand away, but waited while Sandy asked, Who is it?  
  
It's Teaspoon, can I come in?  
  
They exchanged a glance. Well, if you must, but we're not decent.  
  
There was a low chuckle, and Teaspoon entered the room, squinting amiably at them. Well, that's a pity, because Ike has the next ride.  
  
Sandy leaned back with a mock sigh, and Ike grinned at her. *You are going to be so much more tolerable once the baby is born.*  
  
Right now I'd be happy just to get rid of this ache so I can get back to work, she replied. It's not fair that you're the only one to work.  
  
Ike was too busy getting his boots on to give a proper reply, but his expression was one of saddest slavery. Teaspoon chuckled at that.  
  
Isn't it strange that every one of the boys who signed up for this job -- voluntarily I might add -- finds it so highly indurable? Throwing a stern glance at Ike he continued, If you don't pay more respect I just might send you to Saint Louis.  
  
Saint Louis? Sandy said, suddenly sitting up straight, which surprised Teaspoon.  
  
Yes, I have some legal protocols that needs to be sent there for evaluation, and I've been asked to have one of my boys take it all the way. But don't you worry, it won't be Ike.  
  
Sandy had an expression that even Ike couldn't interpret properly, and he realized even the couple of guesses he could have made were way off the charts when she said, Why don't you ask Jimmy?  
  
Two pairs of eyes were now staring at her, and two mouths catching flies. Finally Teaspoon shut his and asked, Are you sure Jimmy would like that?  
  
I think he would *really* like that, she said, then lying down again, making an interpretation of mysterious madonna pre birth. Since she obviously wasn't going to elaborate, Teaspoon just shrugged.  
  
Sure, I'll ask him. Ike, ten more minutes, then I *demand* that you go out there.  
  
Teaspoon left the room and Ike turned to Sandy, wanting an explanation.  
  
alright, since you're going to work and leave me all alone, here's the short version. My by now completely miserable girl is hitting the road and has managed to pick up a story -- mainly by coaxing at the Gallaghers. So, by this time tomorrow, she'll be on her way to a theatre group doing Othello on tours with a coloured lead. Now, I don't like the idea of her running from a potential good thing, but it just so happens Saint Louis is among their next stops.  
  
Well, alright, that was a somewhat sane explanation. *You playing matchmaker?*  
  
Her smile was completely innocent. Of course. Now, come over here and say bye-bye to Joshua.  
  
**********  
  
Lena was cutting vegetables with the frantic efficiency of a medieval assassin, and all in all, it was a sight that made Buck stop short in the doorway. He still didn't like Lena, but he had a vague notion that the combination of her hands and sharp objects wasn't a good one. For one thing, it made him feel guilty. Are you sure you should be doing that?  
  
She hadn't noticed him before, and now her eyebrows flew up. Rachel's in town, and I don't think I'm the only one getting hungry. Beside, I have to do something to earn my keep.  
  
He proceeded slowly, still uncomfortable. He'd heard that she had gotten fired from Mrs. Warren for her ungodly attempt to harm herself, and that she would be leaving soon. That made it a little bit easier to stand being around her. Very little.  
  
Yeah, well, I was just thinking... His eyes drifted towards her bandaged wrists, and she gave a snort.  
  
Take away the knife from my hands, I might get *ideas*, she scorned him, although the glee was evident in her eyes.  
  
His eyes narrowed. There was just no being nice to this girl.  
  
Can't you for once try to act like a decent human being? he asked, and immediately felt a pang of guilt, even though she bent down her head over the vegetables as if nothing had been said at all. I'm... I'm sorry. For what I said, and... you know, for everything.  
  
I didn't realize you were responsible for everything, she said, chopping fast. He got a strange feeling that if he kept this up, someone was about to get cut on that knife, and it wouldn't be her. But he had no idea as to why. He was trying to *apologize* for crying out loud.  
  
I was making you miserable.  
  
You have a much too high opinion of yourself. She finally stopped chopping and turned around. This has nothing to do with you. It doesn't even have anything to do with that holy cow in town. For reasons that has nothing to do with anyone else, I found I couldn't be loyal to myself anymore, and I drew some rather stupid and drunk conclusions from this. If you're feeling guilty because you perhaps wished for me to shut my stupid mouth, that doesn't make you any more responsible, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to indulge in your own narcissism by apologizing for something you have no cause to regret.  
  
Through some bizarre physical mechanism that she could probably make money from if she so wished, she had managed to say all of that without drawing her breath. Now she did, and he managed to get a word in.  
  
Maybe, but I still said some things I shouldn't have.  
  
Were you wrong?  
  
That puzzled him, which she clearly noticed, clarifying in an insufferably smug voice, Did things you said somehow differ from the truth?  
  
Well, no... but...  
  
Then you have no reason to apologize for them. I cut myself. That doesn't make me right. Even if *you* had cut me it wouldn't have made me right. It would have weakened your point, since supporting an argument with violence doesn't exactly enhance its credibility, but it wouldn't have proven mine.  
  
He stared at her, not because he hadn't understood what she said -- it was quite logical -- but because of the way she said it. It irritated him immensely. You're still talking about this as if it was something from a book. It's your life.  
  
What's the difference? she asked, and her voice was flat. She took a deep breath. I'm glad I'm going away. Right now, I could use some actors and reporters turning matters of life and death into a good story. Living is so much harder.  
  
You should try it some time, he said, making one last attempt to reach out and understand. It seemed like such a cold place where she was.  
  
She shook her head slowly. When I leave, will you give Sandy another chance? They're so right for each other, and I think they really want you to be a part of that.  
  
I will.  
  
Good. Then get out of the kitchen and give me some room to work.  
  
Buck stepped outside, knowing that they couldn't have been more different if one of them had been from the moon, and it definitely put every disagreement behind them. Their worlds were entirely separated, two islands of isolations that didn't mix with any others and least of all with each other's. All you could do was to leave it be. And although it was a few days until she was leaving, this was their definite parting. Goodbye enemy, you are no longer of any concern to me.  
  
**********  
  
Take up the anchor, we're ready to go! Brendan cheered as they got packed into the wagon.  
  
It's 'weigh' anchor, Lena said with a wistful sigh, but soon shook off any girlish weakness and reached out a hand to get Jimmy into the wagon as well.  
  
Said your goodbyes? he asked her. He was feeling a bit uncomfortable. For one thing, he was used to his missions being carried out on horseback, and even though he was well aware that this was not one of those ride one hundred day and night times, he had almost preferred if it would have been. Not that he minded the thought of travelling with a young woman -- it was the men included in the bargain that was the big problem. In this trio of friends, he was the one who didn't quite belong, and he'd have loved to figure out what they all felt for each other, because it looked pretty complicated to him. Of course, that was a good word to describe what was going on with him and Lena, too. It would surprise him if she ever had a simple relationship with anyone.  
  
Right now she was digging through her things, but looked up with a grimace at his question. I'm no good at goodbyes.  
  
So you're just going to sneak off? he asked, but Sandy was already leaving the house and came over to them. Lena's grimace changed to a grin, even though she still looked decidedly uncomfortable. Due to her pregnancy, these days Sandy waddled like a duck.  
  
She looked decidedly more grumpy than her friend, which could indicate an unwillingness to say goodbye from her side as well. Jimmy thought he knew the girls well and didn't expect any sentimental greetings, but was still surprised when the only words from Sandy's mouth were, Painted maypole.  
  
If there had been any doubt this was meant as an insult, it went away when Lena firmly replied, You puppet, you.  
  
She then promptly returned to her house, without another word. Lena leaned back with a satisfied smirk, and the Gallagher brothers were laughing, but Jimmy just gaped. What on earth was *that* all about?  
  
A Midsummer Night's Dream, Lena said, resting her arm on the wagon floor behind his back. I'll explain it to you some day.  
  
As they started the ride and the others threw some more inexplicable references to each other, Jimmy started to regret agreeing to this trip. After an hour had passed, he was positive that he hated the two Irishmen.  
  
I don't like you going there. Not with a coloured Othello, Paddy said with a concern that made Jimmy take notice. They were talking about the theatre company Lena was to follow, that much he knew, and although he didn't know what Othello was it was clear from Paddy's expression that it wasn't exactly something coloured people did regularly.  
  
That is part of the story, isn't it? Lena asked sweetly. Too sweetly.  
  
Yeah, but at this day and age? They're asking to get strung up. And you too, if you go with them. Not that it has ever stopped you before.  
  
Bloody right, it hasn't! she said. This is the most stupidly courageous show anyone has been playing in these parts for Lord knows how many years, and I wouldn't miss it for the world. Don't be such a spoilsport.  
  
I saw their Twelfth Night...  
  
It was brilliant! Lena exclaimed. Shocking, I admit, but brilliant. It's very rare to find something that's both.  
  
That's right, leave the girl alone, Brendan said, smacking his brother on the head. She feels at home there.  
  
Lena sat up straight, staring at Brendan in amazement. I do believe that was a compliment.  
  
Brendan's grin was so wide that Jimmy felt a need to enter the discussion. So, what's this Othello thing?  
  
It's a play, said Paddy.  
  
A play, Brendan repeated in disgust. Is that all you can say? It's a great tragedy, in which a Moorish --coloured -- captain marries an Italian maid, but his love for her is poisoned by jealous gossip, leading to the point where he murders her in a rage... only to find out too late that the rumours were false and that she was true to him.  
  
He marries a white girl? Jimmy asked incredulously.  
  
Now you know why I don't want her there, Paddy grumbled. Right now I don't think it would be safe to set up that play even with a painted white man in the lead. And this is a lot worse than that.  
  
But that's the beauty of it all! Lena protested.  
  
Jimmy didn't listen much to what she was saying. He didn't know if Paddy's pessimism was justified, but he knew that even if it was, it wouldn't stop Lena from going. Crazy as it may seem to everyone else, the possibility of a good story mattered more to her than issues of life and death. It didn't really surprise him. It just scared the living hell out of him.  
  
**********  
  
Here we are, Brendan said as he halted the wagon outside the hotel in Saint Louis. He didn't bother to get off, but Paddy jumped down to help with the luggage. Lena swung her own suitcase down before anyone could come near it, and Paddy instead found himself holding Jimmy's bags.  
  
Thanks anyway, Jimmy said, taking them from the Irishman's hands. They stood around for a while, uncertain of what to do, but Lena ignored them both and dragged her suitcase to the hotel.  
  
I'm sure there are suitable threats I could come up with right now, Paddy said, moving over to take the reins again, but I guess I'll have to settle for 'good luck'. He reached out one of his big hands and shook Jimmy's.  
  
Leaving already? Lena asked, standing on the hotel porch with no intent of going back to the wagon.  
  
That's right, you little pseudo-Tan bird! Brendan shouted from his place on the wagon seat.  
  
She laughed at that and said, Well, in that case I do bid you farewell -- paddies!  
  
Mad, both of them, Paddy muttered, shaking his head, but he sat up as well, and within a few minutes Jimmy and Lena were standing alone outside the hotel, staring at each other.  
  
Are you coming in or not? she asked. We both have work to do, after all, we had better get ourselves a couple of rooms.  
  
He followed her inside and listened as she told the receptionist exactly what she wanted, how much, and at what time. If anyone wondered what their relationship was, they certainly didn't say anything. Jimmy started to wonder just how much Lena had been travelling with strange men, to act so professional about it, and then he realized that professional was exactly what she *was*.  
  
And I need a copy of the bill for the newspaper. Just for me, the gentleman is with the Marshal's office.  
  
In all this time, he hadn't gotten a single word in, and now she turned back and looked at him, smiling. I'm really just bringing my bags in, and then I must get to work. How about you?  
  
Probably should, too, he agreed. He didn't have much in the way of luggage and would have gone directly to the Marshal's office if he were alone.  
  
So, dinner at eight?  
  
He couldn't get out of working, that was what he was here for, but nobody could deny a man some dinner.  
  
**********  
  
Nobody, it turned out, except Marshal Thackeray. By eight thirty, he was still going through old protocols, asking Jimmy about everything there was to know. Half of the questions he couldn't answer, and some he didn't even understand.  
  
Can you explain to me the circumstances around Henry Muncie's death? Thackeray asked.  
  
Henry Muncie?  
  
According to the files, he impersonated you.  
  
Ah... yeah, that's right. I remember him, Jimmy said, although he hadn't remembered him until Thackeray had said that. He certainly couldn't remember all the details that were expected of him. There was a bounty hunter killed him, thought he was me... isn't that in the notes?  
  
No, it isn't. Thackeray leaned his chin in his hands and looked even more irritated than he had before, and not half as amused as he had been when this whole thing started. As I've explained to you, I have all respect for Marshal Hunter as a colleague, but his administrative skills leave much to be desired. So if you're going to frown at anyone, I'd prefer it if it were him. I'm not responsible for this, and whether you believe it or not, protocols are important. If there's anything fishy in a case, they're where you can go to find it. Hunter is making himself wide open for criticism, and I don't like it.  
  
Yes, sir, but... Jimmy didn't know what to say that wouldn't sound immature and stupid, but he was more than half an hour late and he said it anyway: I need to get to dinner, sir.  
  
Thackeray obviously hadn't thought of that. There's some bread and cheese in the cupboard. If you wait a minute, I'll make us some coffee as well.  
No, sir, you don't understand. I have a date.  
  
Is that so? Thackeray was sympathetic, but not sympathetic enough. But you also have work to do, don't you? Is this mysterious beauty of yours going to disappear tomorrow?  
  
Well, no. And she wasn't a beauty either, but that was beside the point.  
So then you can see her tomorrow. Thackeray dismissed the Muncie case and put some water to boil on the stove before reaching out for another protocol. Al Mecklenburg -- the guy's actually called Al Mecklenburg? What do you know. Were you present at the time of his arrest?  
  
Jimmy sighed. No, sir.  
  
**********  
  



	6. 

**********  
  
The restaurant was long since closed when Jimmy returned to the hotel, and the night porter seemed rather irritated that he couldn't close as well. Jimmy went to sleep with a gloomy feeling, wishing he could have had a more enjoyable dinner than bread and cheese in the Marshal's company.  
  
The morning after he felt nearly ashamed to come knocking on Lena's door, even though none of this was his fault. He wanted to make sure to catch her before she left, in case she was very angry with him.  
  
Her voice sounded of a good night's sleep and a cheerful mind as she shouted, Who is it?  
  
It's Jimmy.  
  
Oh, come on in! I'm not quite finished yet, but the door isn't locked.  
  
Jimmy hesitated only a second before he turned the doorknob. He wasn't sure what Lena meant with not quite finished. Considering his suspicions, she was remarkably decent, showing little more than her shoulders.  
  
I'm so glad you came, she said, sitting in front of a dressing table. Could you give me a hand with the corset?  
  
It certainly wasn't the first time he had done *that*. It made him wonder why women even bothered to wear the idiotic things.  
  
I usually manage it myself, Lena explained and held up her bandaged arms, but I don't want to risk popping a stitch.  
  
Of course not, Jimmy said, looking down at the hooks to avoid meeting her eyes in the mirror. He pulled the strings, and she moaned in protest.  
  
What am I, a society lady? Give me some room to breathe!  
  
He loosened them again, and saw some black spot on her shoulder. I'm sorry about yesterday. The spot didn't go away when he brushed it.  
  
Oh, I don't mind, I had dinner... She turned her head to look at his hand. What on earth are you doing?  
  
What's that on your shoulder?  
  
Oh, that. It's the first bar of Beethoven's fifth. She noticed his puzzled glance and added, A tattoo.  
  
A *what*?  
  
My grandfather is a captain, remember? I coaxed one of his sailors into doing it. I have another one too, lower down, of his ship.  
  
You're kidding.  
  
And it was obvious she wasn't, in spite of the smile on her face. And of course, tattoos hidden under fancy clothes was just like the lowdown things she would say in that well-polished accent. Anyway, as I was saying, I had dinner with Olivia Gerard last night, and I suspect we had more fun than you did, so there's no need to apologize.  
  
Who is Olivia?  
  
She plays Desdemona. Wonderful actress, one of those red-headed beauties with a terrible accent and vocabulary -- and that's what makes it so *interesting*, really. I mean, Desdemona is such a very sweet and innocent girl, almost a saint, but if she doesn't *seem* it, Othello's reaction is much more believable.  
  
I have no idea what you're talking about, Jimmy said, watching as she finished with her dress and earrings before pulling on a pair of gloves. Why did you bring a strange actress to dinner?  
  
Otherwise I would have had to eat alone, she pointed out, tying her shoelaces.  
  
But you didn't know that.  
  
I'm a reporter. My hours are very irregular, and most people I know have irregular hours as well. I always make sure I don't have to be alone unless I want to. And somehow I still manage to find myself in private with a handsome young man from time to time. She grinned at him and stood up, ready to go.  
  
So you just... alright, that made sense. You know, I never think of you as a reporter.  
  
Why, thank you! she said, pretending to be flattered even though he could see the glint of steel in her eyes. She was a lot more protective of her identity as a working woman than Sandy was.  
  
I meant... you don't lie on people.  
  
You have to be a very poor reporter, she said, stopping in her tracks, to not find enough in the truth to upset a whole world. Smiling at her own melodramatics, she continued, I'm going down to the theatre. Do you care to come?  
  
he said, even though he didn't know whether he actually did. He was far too fond of reality to care much for the theatre, and following a girl to work wasn't his usual pastime either. On the other hand, he did have a few hours before Thackeray expected him, and it would be a shame not to use them.  
  
Her childish grin made him happy he had said yes, and he followed her down the stairs, his hand in hers.  
  
You will love them, she assured him, dragging him into a high building a few blocks away.  
  
Is this a theatre? he asked, as they stepped in. The first thing he saw in there was a huge black man in peculiar clothes hanging up a mirror.  
  
The man turned around and smiled, which caused a stunning contrast to his dark face. It was actually so dark it was hard to see his features, and as handsome as an ancient statue, if such had been made in ebony. It's an old hospital. We're using it for rehearsal.  
  
This is Tom Ramsey, the leading man, Lena said. Tom, this is Jimmy Hickok.  
  
Nice to meet you, Tom said, stepping back from the mirror. Damn thing fell down, he explained with an apologetic smile.  
  
What did you do, run into it head first? Lena asked, letting her eyes go up to Tom's head, a foot above her own.  
  
Tom smiled, but didn't answer this. Instead, he asked, Have you had breakfast? They're up on the third floor eating now.  
  
No, I haven't, Jimmy said at the same time as Lena said:  
  
Yes, I have.  
  
They stared at each other for a second, and then Lena shrugged and started up the stairs, waving goodbye to Tom. Jimmy followed her, until she stopped on the third staircase and started scribbling in her notebook. Leaning over her shoulder, he saw that she wrote down the inscription above the door. She smiled at him.  
  
Hic est locus ubi mors gaudeat succurrere vitae, she read aloud.  
  
What does that mean?  
  
This is the place where death is happy to serve life. I've seen it before. Anatomy studies.  
  
Jimmy said gloomily. Nothing was as good for your appetite as thinking of doctors carving up bodies. Are you going to include that in your article?  
  
Depends on how much space I get, she explained, sitting down on the railing. Well, if she had already eaten breakfast, she had no reason to hurry. He was the one with an empty stomach and a job across town, and still he didn't mind staying here just hanging around. If there's polite clapping, I get five lines. If the play is a success, I get ten. If people are upset and there's a riot, I may get half a page, but I won't get a full page unless someone is killed.  
  
Just as he thought nothing she said could shock him.   
  
Death is always news.  
  
So you're saying that the best thing that could happen would be if someone strung that Ramsey man up a tree? He hardly ever got upset at things she said, but now he couldn't help himself.  
  
No, he's male, and black. Olivia would be much better. She had to tease him a little, but grinned when she saw his expression. Supposing that I *want* a full page, which I don't, particularly.  
  
She slid down from the railing and walked up the past few steps into the old anatomy room, now the place for breakfast. The room was full of people, most of them wearing clothes as spectacular as Tom's, and although they were all eating, it was nothing like breakfast in the bunkhouse. For one thing, very few people were actually seated. Some were standing up or walking, some crouched or lying on the floor, and one girl was slowly spinning around on the floor, chewing on a sandwich while another woman fixed her red curls into a crown.  
  
The girl spotted Lena and waved amiably. Well, Miss Andersson, it seems we're not done with you yet!  
  
Of course not, Lena replied, introducing the girl to Jimmy. Jimmy, this is Olivia Gerard, the leading lady, and Anne Levy, playing Emilia, and also, as it happens, married to the director. Olivia, Anne, this is Jimmy Hickok, my travel companion for the time being.  
  
Olivia said, reaching out a hand in the middle of a spin. Jimmy shook it. Even that word revealed a broad accent, and Jimmy started to understand why Lena, with her well.articulated speech pattern, was so fascinated by Olivia.  
  
Nice to meet you. Did you know that Lena wants you killed?  
  
Olivia widened her already big eyes and looked with interest at Lena, and Anne stopped her busy fingers in the middle of a little braid.  
  
I simply said that if you did get killed, I would get a full page in the newspaper for the story, Lena explained. As I also tried to tell him, though he is so thick-headed it doesn't seem to have gotten through, I don't particularly want a full page.  
  
Olivia looked thoughtful, and Anne commented, But we need a Desdemona. It would be better if someone tried to kill her and didn't succeed. She looked at Jimmy with interest. Can you shoot well enough to miss on purpose?  
  
There was an outburst of laughter from Olivia. Oh, that'd be swell! I could pass out on stage, and it'd be a big ruckus!  
  
chided Lena. May I remind you that this is forgery of news, which is something best done when no honest reporter can hear you!?  
  
Who's honest? Anne asked, and Olivia started laughing again.  
  
The women were still busy with Olivia's hair, but Lena and Jimmy grabbed a few sandwiches and sat down in a corner, relatively undisturbed. Jimmy was still shocked by the revelation that the actors were just as flip about possible trouble as Lena was, and he shook his head as a response to her wide grin.  
  
You know, if they wanted a safe bet, they wouldn't play 'Othello', she reminded him. There are plenty of guaranteed successes written that wouldn't stir up any trouble. They could play 'The Merchant of Venice', and who would object, apart from a few Jewish moneylenders?  
  
he suggested, because she had sounded that way.  
  
Well, maybe not object, she replied. I might point out a few mistakes. After all, I was engaged to one.  
  
A Jewish moneylender? he asked, surprised. He wouldn't have expected her to ever have been engaged, much less to someone as relatively stable as a moneylender.  
  
A banker, she corrected him. Asher Goldstein, his cousins work at the paper. Well, David works, Miriam is mainly playing hopscotch in her brother's office. Judging from her tone of voice, she didn't care much for Miriam.  
  
What happened? Jimmy asked, still preoccupied with the thought of anyone getting engaged to this girl.  
  
He wanted a nice, Jewish housewife and got me. I couldn't be want he wanted, he couldn't want what I was. She shrugged. It happens remarkably often. I don't want a mean man, and I don't get along well with the nice ones.  
  
Jimmy chewed for a while, contemplating whether or not he should say what was on his mind. Eventually, he just couldn't keep his mouth shut. So, how many have there been?  
  
How many what? It was hard to tell when she was pulling his leg, but he thought she was genuinely puzzled this time. Engagements? Only one.  
  
I meant... It occurred to Jimmy that this was none of his business, and that he'd be utterly unwilling to discuss the women of his life in such an environment, but he couldn't stop himself. Men. In general.  
  
Since the dawn of time? she snapped. Her demeanour didn't change much, but she put her left foot over her right, away from him, and somehow he felt as if she had turned away completely. She wasn't angry. That might have made it easier. She looked as if she was five years old and he had broken her china doll.  
I'm sorry. It's none of my...  
  
Pick a number, she suggested, suddenly smiling again. Any number you like. It could be right or wrong, but in any case, it'll be what you want.  
  
He didn't say anything else. Certainly there must be words that would help, but he didn't know what they were. Even if he wanted to think of her as a good girl, that wouldn't make her one. What's past is past, and if he liked her too much to leave it at that, he shouldn't make it her problem.  
  
he said, swallowing the last of his sandwich. I gotta go to work. But we'll be seeing each other?  
  
The second performance is at seven, she said. Be there?  
  
Nothing could stop me.  
  
**********  
  
Tom Ramsey was weeping now, hugging the cushion to his chest as he watched his sleeping woman. Yet I'll not shed her blood; nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, and smooth as monumental alabaster. He let go of the cushion with one hand and caressed her cheek softly. Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men. Put out the light...  
  
Several people had left the theatre during the evening, but for a while now it had all been still, and the audience sat in terrified fascination, watching the plot unfold and the Moor decide to kill his wife. He leaned down to kiss her one last time, ready to smother her...  
  
Leave her be, you dirty nigger!  
  
Lena's notebook had been resting in her lap, but now flew back into her hands, and a delighted smile spread over her face.  
  
The actors had stopped, since they couldn't make their voices heard, and Olivia, who had just been woken by Tom's kiss, was sitting up in bed, giggling into her apron. There were displeased murmurs from the audience, but the man who had shouted was too upset to care. He started towards the stage, waving his arms about.  
  
I'm not gonna let you kill her, you hear me! To the man, this was all deadly serious, and he wouldn't be stopped by people trying to hold him back. A few feet away from the stage, he pulled his gun, and the murmurs silenced. Only Lena's pencil kept working its way down the pad, quicker and quicker.  
  
Thackeray rose from his seat, never one to rush an action, but experienced enough to know the difference between a joke and a real threat. That's enough, Hart. Sit down.  
  
The man turned around, still angry, but with a respect for the Marshal that forbade him to shoot when he'd been told not to. But he's gonna...  
  
Sit down and let them finish their play, Thackeray repeated. If Mrs. Desdemona here is still dead by tomorrow, I promise you I'll have Mr. Othello hung for it. Agreed?  
  
Hart hesitated, but was pulled back into a seat by some people on the front row, who also had the sense to take his gun away. With a serene nod, Thackeray encouraged the actors to go on.  
  
Who's there? Othello? Olivia asked, having no trouble to stop herself from giggling anymore.  
  
Ay. Desdemona. Tom's voice was rough, and the following scene was played with a startling intensity; Olivia pleading for her life, and he desperate enough to kill her even though he loved her. Still holding her corpse, he was interrupted by Anne bringing news of more deaths.  
  
And then, to Jimmy, everything happened at once, the dark mood of raging jealousy disturbed as more and more people entered the room. Anne insisted that her mistress was innocent of adultery, but could not make the others listen, not until she had told them everything about the evil plan she had taken part in without knowing it herself. Mr. Levy, the director, brought forward his sword as suddenly as Hart had his gun, and stabbed Anne with it before the others had time to react. In the short moment while the officials got Mr. Levy into chains, Tom grabbed a sword Jimmy could have *sworn* he didn't have, and then...  
  
Aw, shit, Jimmy moaned. His eyes had already started to feel funny, now they were definitely burning and made the ending blurred.  
  
Why, Jimmy, I do believe you're crying! Lena said. Her face still held a radiant smile, but her notebook lay on the seat. She had no room for it between her clapping hands, and since she was standing up it didn't much matter where she put it.  
  
Well, it was very sad, he pointed out, applauding as well. Olivia, Anne and Tom had all come back to life now, bowing in front of the audience, but that didn't take away any of the emotions the play had brought up. You really shouldn't be laughing.  
  
I'm not laughing, I'm smiling, she objected. I've seen it played before, but never this well.  
  
At that, he actually smiled himself, in spite of the lump in his throat. Yeah, it had been good. He'd never seen the play before, but he had a hard time remembering who was related to whom, since it wasn't at all like it had been in the play.  
  
Listen, about earlier...  
  
It doesn't matter, Lena said, and in the current mood she was in, he had a feeling that she meant it honestly, not just as dismissal.  
  
Do you want to eat something?  
  
The smallest of shrugs. Why not?  
  
**********  
  
It's so sad, you know, Jimmy said, leaning back on the sofa. It was late enough for the hotel lobby to be almost empty, and thus he and Lena got some sort of privacy while still remaining respectable. It had been Jimmy's idea to move out in the lobby after dinner instead of going upstairs, but Lena had agreed readily. She may ignore other people's opinions, but it was still easier to have nothing to ignore.  
  
Lena asked. Her eyes were a bit unfocused. He had refused to drink because of his contract, and she had followed his lead, so her drowsiness must be due to the late hour alone. Funny, really, she struck him as the late nights kind of girl, but now she was half-lying across the sofa with her arm tucked in under her head, having trouble keeping her eyes open.  
  
The play. They could have been happy, if it hadn't been for that Iago guy.  
  
People usually aren't, she mumbled.  
  
Aren't what?  
  
Happy. They just think they're supposed to be happy, and that everyone else is.  
  
You think so?  
  
She looked up, and he eyes were clear. When was the last time you were happy?  
  
The first thought that entered his head was of his time with Alice. It had been more than a year ago, but it could still come back to him with full force, the comfort and joy he had felt with the peacemakers. Sometimes he woke up after dreaming of that time, and had to fight off a lump in his throat, because he hated to find out it was only a dream.  
  
Do you know who the Peacemakers are? he asked. She shook her head, but looked interested, and he continued, They're a group of people who have withdrawn from the world to live for God. Some people call them a cult, but I never saw that. They were just... peaceful. I mean, really, not just that they didn't carry guns. And there was this girl there...  
  
He halted himself and looked down at Lena, but she was watching him with half-closed eyes and seemed genuinely interested. In a way, that irritated him. He certainly hadn't been so amiable when she spoke of her old boyfriend. Then again, the memory of Alice was so dear he would have hated not to be able to share it.  
  
Her name was Alice. We fell in love, and I thought about staying there. Not just for her sake, I really felt like it was the place for me. He silenced, finding it difficult to speak about it. Turned out it wasn't.  
  
Wasn't the place for you, or for Wild Bill Hickok?  
  
He hadn't counted on her to be so perceptive, and looked up in surprise. Does it matter?  
  
The word was plain and spoken without hesitation.  
  
So, what about you? he asked, entwining his fingers with hers. Her hand was warm after lying under her head. When were you happy?  
  
I was travelling with my granddad's boat, she said. When we came into Dublin, I had taken ill. Nothing serious, just one of those childhood diseases, I think it was whooping-cough. She though about that. Yes, it definitely was, I remember throwing up on everything. He stayed with me. He handed the Wilhelmina over to his first mate and stayed with me in Dublin until I got better. Said he wasn't going to leave his grandchild with strangers.  
  
She saw Jimmy's incomprehensive stare and continued, He really loved that boat.  
  
More than you? he asked.  
  
No, that's just it.  
  
But he was your granddad, he had to... Jimmy didn't know how to continue, and he wasn't even sure what his objection was. He just knew that no one's memory of happiness should ever make him this miserable. And you haven't been happy since?  
  
Her face was softer than he had ever seen it. Not like that.  
  
**********  
  
His job was over. Although it had seemed so unlikely when Jimmy and Thackeray had first started going through the documents, they were all done, and it was time to go home. Back to Rock Creek and the riders... he wasn't sure what Lena was going to do, but he had a strict feeling she wouldn't be eager to return to the station any time soon. The actors were packing up, and she had spoken about joining them for part of the trip and then returning to Chicago right away. And once there? She certainly didn't seem the type to settle down and take root.  
  
He had to admit, the thought of hitting the road appealed to him. Work had been increasingly irritating lately, and he'd thought about the army, now that times were getting troublesome. But maybe her way would be even better. He couldn't see himself as a reporter, but surely there would always be something for him to do?  
  
What stopped him wasn't the thought of the people back home. It wasn't even the knowledge that it was faintly ridiculous for a man to follow a woman halfway across the country. It was just the uncertainty of what would happen if he did. He couldn't propose to her, like he might have with some other girl. Marriage just wasn't something he could connect to her, ever. And maybe that was the problem. Because in the long run, it might be better for her to choose a guy that would actually marry her, force her to slow her spin a little. And, hell, if he was to be completely honest with himself, he didn't know how long he would have been able to put up with that spin either. Being with Lena felt like the few times he had spent drunk -- you were really happy, but with an increasing knowledge that you would wake up with a terrible headache the next day.  
  
So that was his decision, then. He would go home to Rock Creek, as was always planned. Of course, if she did want to come with him, now or later -- well, she was a free woman, obviously she could. He'd even admit that he would enjoy her company. But the move was hers to make.  
  
His heart felt lighter now that he had made his decision, and he no longer hesitated to cross the hallway to her room. As soon as she answered his knock, which took too long for his liking, he opened the door and went inside.  
  
Unlike last time, she was fully dressed. She was even wearing her coat. At first he was too preoccupied to do more than notice the fact, but then he realized why. The suitcase on her bed might also have had something to do with it.  
  
You're leaving?  
  
She put another bag on her bed and stuffed things in it, working fast but still managing to keep things neat. They're going to Chicago next and said they would take me that far. That way I get a chance to give Pierce my story in person and maybe smile enough for him to be nice to me when I ask him to accept me as a full-time employee again.  
  
It certainly seemed as if she had her future staked out a lot better than he did. You weren't even going to say goodbye?  
  
She put down the bag for a moment and turned to him with a pleasant smile.   
  
Is that supposed to be funny? he asked, angry at the way she was just ready to back off from this.  
  
She sighed and sat down on the very edge of the bed. Well, yes, I was hoping to be able to avoid this entire farewell scenario, but since I obviously cannot... I had a fabulous time here. And I'm going to miss you. If you ever come to Chicago, you had better show up at the newsroom or I'll hunt you down and kill you. Understand? She rose again, picked up her bags and headed for the door.  
  
Not sure if he wanted to kiss her or not, he reached out for her without a thought, and she turned back, her eyes facing his, his hands on her shoulder.  
  
We'd be terrible, she said.  
  
I know. He let go of her shoulders, and she smiled again. She did that a lot, bright and sparkly smiles that didn't mean a thing.  
  
I really want to be a sensible girl right now.  
  
Don't let me stop you.  
  
You couldn't if you tried.  
  
And that was the truth of course. The decision was hers, just as he had decided it should be, and he only now realized that if she hadn't been set on being sensible, nothing could have stopped her from getting what she wanted. And that would have been disastrous. So why did it feel so awful that she had come to the same conclusion that he had?  
  
When you've been a changeling long enough... There was a hand in his, for so short a period of time he barely had time to grasp it, and then, with a wide grin, she was out the door.  
  
He heard her steps proceed down the stairs until the last echo was gone.  
  
That's it, then? he asked no one in particular. There ain't no home once you've left it too long?  
  
THE END


End file.
